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¥i \ 





A MEMOIR OF 



THE 




LIFE 



OF 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 



/ 



Bt SAMUEL L. KNAPP. 




BOSTON 

PUBLISHED BY STIMPSON AND CLAPF. 



1831. 



1^ 



£34-0 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year laSl, 
by Stimpson & Clapp^ in the Clerk's Ofiice of the District 
of Massachusetts. 






^ 



5^ 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 



In a free country, where public opinion sways every 
thing of a public nature ; where men are called from 
the mass of their fellows-citizens to offices of tmst and 
distinction, and return again to private life, and still 
are eligible to the same, or new situations ; and where 
there is nothing permanent but a fair, and an honest 
reputation, it becomes each one, desirous of being able 
to bear his part properly, to make himself acquainted 
with men, as well as things. It is easier tp collect 
matters for statistical tables, to make geographical 
surveys, and to ascertain the capacities of rivers and 
streams ; in fact, to get at all the physical resources of 
a country, than to acquire a scanty knowledge of the 
intellectual wealth of a people ; particularly when they 
are scattered over such an extent of territory as we are 
in the United States. Cmiosity prompts us to inquire 
something of the personal appearance of a distinguished 
individual, something of his age, manner, habits, and 
disposition ; for we do not think entirely in the abstract 
on any subject. We must see some resemblance to 
Hercules to be satisfied with the account of his great 
strength ; his colossal frame must accompany our 



2 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

thoughts of his mighty deeds. To wait until men are 
dead to make ourselves acquainted with their characters, 
has more of modesty than wisdom in it. In this, we 
should rather be living with the dead, than with the 
animated, active beings around us ; not that we should 
be ignorant of those who have finished their labors, and 
who have gone to receive their rewards ; who have 
stamped the by-gone age with their illustrious deeds, 
or intellectual productions. These should be held in 
sweet remembrance ; but those who are now efficient 
agents in the affairs of men, should also be our study. 
If we make a wrong estimate of the dead, it will not do 
much harm ; for those who come after us will correct 
our opinions and reverse our judgments upon the merits 
of those who have passed away. But if we are misled 
in our estimates of the virtues or talents, dispositions or 
opinions of the living, we may do ourselves an injury 
by lavishing confidence where it is not deserved, or by 
withholding it when it should be given. What is meant 
by a knowledge of human nature, but an acquaintance 
with the motives, principles, and actions of the living ? 
Our country abounds in rich materials for sketches and 
memoirs of distinguished men. Some of these memoirs 
and notices we have had, of our prominent naval, and 
military, and diplomatic men ; and sometimes we have 
seen a notice of a poet or an orator, but not always 
drawn with a deep knowledge of the subject, or in an 
independent spirit. 

The memoir of one of our most eminent jurists, 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 3 

Statesman, and orators, was contemplated some time 
since, and a hasty sketch given to the pubhc. The 
good feehngs shown to that scanty production, which 
was sent into the world without conference with any 
one on the subject, or without looking for a single fact 
not within the recollection of the writer, has induced 
him to extend his remarks upon the events of the life 
of Mr. Webster, and upon his labors at the bar, in the 
halls of legislation, and among his fellow citizens, as 
occasions called forth his talents. 

Daniel Webster was born in the town of Salisbury, 
situated on the banks of the Merrimack, in the State of 
New Hampshire, on the 18th day of January, in the 
year of our Lord, 1782. His father, grand-father and 
great-grand-father, were named Ebenezer, and were 
descendants of Thomas Webster, an inhabitant of 
Hampton in that State, as early as 1656, who died 
in 1715, aged 83, and whose son Ebenezer was one of 
the grantees of Kingston in 1692, and a settler there 
about 1700. The father of Daniel Webster was 
born at Kingston, in 1739 ; the son of a farmer. 
He left his father's farm at the early age of eighteen, 
to serve as a soldier in the wars of 1755. The conflict 
at that time with the French and Indians was a severe 
one ; and New England, as well as some other colonies, 
was heavily taxed for provincial troops. The youthful 
soldier was selected as one of a distinguished corps, 
called Rogers's rangers. Major Robert Rogers, a 
native of Londonderry, in the State of New Hampshire, 



4 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

was authorized by the British Government to raise 
several companies to range the frontiers in winter as 
well as In summer, in order to watch the hostile Indians, 
who often, in the most inclement season, made attacks 
upon the defenceless inhabitants of the frontlei's. The 
body of troops called the rangers, were taken from the 
]x)ldest and hardiest of the yeomanr}- of the land. 
They were doubly armed, and earned with them snow- 
shoes and skates for service ; and generally made their 
head-quarters at the southern extremity of Lake George. 
The snow-shoes put them on an equality with their foes ; 
and with their skates they had greatly the advantage of 
the Indians. Stark, Putnam, and several others, who 
were distinguished during the revolutionary war, were 
trained In this school. Some of the well authenticated 
exploits of this hardy band seem like romance to us 
at the present day. All along the mountain borders 
of Lake George, spots are shown where the rangers 
fought desperate battles In the winter season ; some- 
times with more than twice their numbei^. Tliis corps 
fought from 1755 to the fall of Quebec, In 1759. 
They were put foremost In battle by Abercromble and 
Amhei-st ; and some of them were sent to assist Wolfe. 
The youthful soldier was made for a ranger, from his 
corporeal and Intellectual powers, which were of a 
robust order. Rogers states in his journal, that their 
packs were generally of twice the weight of those 
commonly carried by soldlei-s. Many of this band 
perished In their frontier campaigns ; but some of the 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. *S 

survivors, who had repelled the foe, at the peace of 
Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1763, took advantage of this quiet 
time, and pushed into the wilderness to form settlements. 
Among them was Mr. E. Webster. He took up his 
march, and penetrated the forest fifteen miles above the 
garrison town, — now Concord, — ^the seat of Govern- 
ment for that State. This new settlement was called 
Salisbury, after a town of that name in Massachusetts, 
from which many of the settlers had emigrated. Here 
the enterprising adventurers set about building up one of 
those corporations that make up New England ; one 
of those primitive assemblies governed by patriarchal 
simplicity, and yet with energy and effect. While he 
and his friends, a handful of sturdy yeomanry, were 
clearing the land and watching the grow th of their crops 
and their children, the revolutionary storm burst out. 
They were accustomed to dangers, not to fears. Every 
possession had been gained by great efforts ; and they 
were prepared to support their property and their 
liberties with still greater. The soldier of a former 
war was now called to the command of a company 
raised in his own town and vicinity; and great confi- 
dence was placed in one who had had such experience 
as a ranger. In 1777, when the alarm was given that 
Burgoyne was making rapid strides into our territory, 
having taken Ticonderoga, which had been thought 
quite impregnable, the militia of New York and New 
England started at once, and hastened to meet the 
enemy. Captain Webster was with Stark's force in his 
1* 



6 LIFE OF WEBSTER, 

spirited and successful engagement with Count Baum, 
at Bennington, and also at the sun-ender of Burgoyne. 
After the peace of 1783, he was elected a member of 
the Legislature of New Hampshire, and served In both 
branches of the General Court. In 1791, he was 
appointed Judge of the Court of Common Pleas, and 
was on the bench for several years. Judge Webster was 
a man of strong sense ; and, although his education 
was, of course, In that age limited, yet he was well 
acquainted with the Constitution of the States and the 
laws of the land as they affected the great question of 
rights and duties of freemen ; and his opinions were held 
in great respect by his neighbors, — and a neighborhood 
is a very extensive circle In a new country. In the 
latter part of his life, Judge Webster found leisure for 
reading, of which he was very fond. His society was 
sought by all the intelligent men around him, for he 
excelled in conversation. He died at the age of 
seventy-seven, in 1816. 

The maiden name of Daniel Webster's mother was 
Eastman ; she was a native of Salisbuiy, in Massachu- 
setts, a woman of intellect, piety, and good affections, 
— loved and respected In her neighborhood and ven- 
erated by her children. She had three sons and two 
daughters, and was their prlmaiy Instructer In the ele- 
ments of letters. With the true feelings of a maternal 
heart she watched the growth of her sons ; and with 
that Inspiration, which Heaven often vouchsafes to a 
mother to reward her for her anxieties and pains, she 



LIFE OF WEBSfEH. 7 

prophesied their future distinction ; and, more happy 
than many, she Hved to see the prophecy fulfilled. 

In the neighborhood of Salisbury, in the town of 
Boscawen, there resided a clergyman, who possessed 
the soul of the man of Ross, and as the inhabitants of 
the surrounding country w^ere too happy in their pos- 
sessions from their industry, to require him to apportion 
maids or apprentice orphans^ if he had possessed the 
means, still there was a way for him to be quite as use- 
ful, in dispensing the blessings of education. This man 
was the Rev. Samuel Wood, D. D., -who added to an 
ardent love of learning great industiy and patience. 
Hundreds of those, w^ho were striving for an education, 
received his instruction gratuitously, and many of them 
shared his hospitable table without remuneration, or a 
wish for it on his part. He is still living with the same 
noble disposition, if his age does not admit of the same 
exertions. This good man saw the promising talents 
of the subject of this memoir, and recommended his 
father to send him to college. For this purpose, the 
son was sent to Exeter academy, in his native State. 
This was judicious, for Exeter academy is one of the 
best literary and scientific institutions in the country. 
This, with its twin sister, Phillips's Andover academy, 
was founded and liberally endowed by the Phillips fam- 
ily — a name identified vAih the literature, science, and 
theology of the countrv^ The Exeter academy was 
then and still is, under the superintendence of Benjamin 
Abbot, L. L. D., a fine classical scholar, of gentlemanly 



8 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

and affectionate manners ; a man admirably calculated 
for the Principal of such a seminary. Dr. Abbott had 
the sagacity to discover at once the capacity and talents 
of his pupil, and used his best exertions to bring him 
forward, which he did in a very rapid manner. Such 
men as Wood and Abbot should be remembered with 
the great teachers of youth, — Milton, Busby, Johnson 
and Parr, to whom so much credit has justly been 
given, as instructers of the great minds of England. 
There is an affectionate connexion between an instruc- 
tor and his pupil, which lasts through life, if there has 
been a good understanding in the early days of the 
aspirant for literary and scientific honors with his director 
and teacher. ' / taught that boy,^ is the proud reflec- 
tion of the teacher, when his pupil becomes distin- 
guished ; and, 1 was educated by that celebrated instruc- 
ter, is the heartfelt response of one, however elevated, 
whose mind has been properly nurtured, and the 
luxuriance of whose imagination has been judiciously 
pnmed by the friendly and sagacious care of a kind 
and intelligent teacher. Mr. Webster has often been 
heard to express his obligations to Wood and Abbot 
for their attention to his education. They share his 
fame, and enhance, while they enjoy, his honors. 

From this academy, Mr. Webster went to Dart- 
mouth college, an institution which has produced no 
ordinary share of distinguished men in every walk of 
life. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 9 

There is one feature in the character of that college, 
which deserves to be mentioned. There was no man- 
nerism — the bane of many seminaries, contracted by 
the course of studies required there, nor could you tell 
from the graduate the course of his discipline w^hile a 
student. After exacting the ordinary requisitions, the 
mind of each scholar was allow^ed to take its own bent, 
without the stamp of a reigning fashion, as common as it 
is injurious to young men. In Dartmouth college there 
was no uniformity of coats, caps, or thoughts. The 
alumni exhibited a wilderness of free minds, over 
whom the alma mater had no other control, than the 
exactions of a respectful compliance to a few necessary 
rules in order to secure the ordinary duties of a student. 
Mr. Webster was distinguished in his class for a general 
knowledge of all the branches of learning taught in the 
college, but much more for a bold, strong, independent 
manner of thinking and of expressing his opinions. He 
grappled with authors at that time not simply to make 
himself master of what they wrote, but to test their 
merits by a standard of his own. If such a mind is not 
ahvays right in its conclusions, it is certainly on the road 
to truth. The scholars acknowledged his great talents, 
and the Faculty sanctioned their opinion of his merits. 
The Professor of Natural Philosophy, Judge Woodward, 
who lived but three years after Mr. Webster left 
college, often spoke of him in high tenns, and accom- 
panied his remarks with a confident prophecy of his 
future eminence. 'That man's victory is certain,' 



10 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

said the sage Professor, ' who reaches the heart through 
the medium of the understanding. He gained me by 
combating my opinions, for I often attacked liim merely 
to try his strength.' The good old Professor was then 
in the wane of life ; but if his struggles with his pupil 
lacked something of his former energy, (for he was in 
the prime of life a strong man, and had but few equals 
in the field of argument) still there was such a sincerity 
in his opinions, and so much of his former insight into 
character remained, that all were prepared to respect 
and believe his visions of coming days. 

On leaving college, Webster went to Fry burgh to 
take charge of an academy. Here he officiated a year. 
He discharged his duties faithfully from principle, but his 
heart was not thought to have been deeply engaged in the 
business ; for his own plans for self-improvement were 
too vast to pennit him to take great delight in toiling to 
cultivate the minds of others in that stage of knowledge. 
He was preparmg to be an instructer of nations, not of 
a few of the community in which he lived. Fryburgh 
is an interior town in Maine, but here he found books 
and some intelligent society, particularly in the family 
of the good clergyman of that town. The Rev. 
William Fessenden, was a pious well educated man, 
and was of course fond in his old age, of a youthful 
vigorous mind, with a spirit fresh and animated from 
recent views of nature and of man. 

It is a fact worth noticing, that many of the great 
men of New-England disciplined their minds and made 



LIFE OF WEBSTER- 11 

their first earnings as instmcters of youth ; Dr. Joseph 
Warren, John Adams, Judge Gushing, Governor Sum- 
ner, Judge Parsons, and many others were for a time 
schoolmasters. It was thought a year or two were well 
spent in teaching the classics, as teaching roused their 
recollections, which, in this country too soon fade away 
in the business of life, for want of a more frequent 
recurrence to books. 

The next season, Mr. Webster returned to his native 
town and entered the office of his friend and neighbor, 
Thomas W. Thompson, a man of taste and talents, 
then engaged in the profitable course of country business. 
If Thompson had been in a less absorbing course in his 
profession, he would have been one of the most elegant 
scholars of his day. His style was classical, and his 
manners refined. He had been distinguished as a polite 
and well grounded scholar at Gambridge, and was a 
tutor there for several years. The routine of such an 
office being soon understood, Mr. Webster was desirous 
of witnessing a more enlarged course of practice ; and for 
this purpose he went to Boston, and put himself under 
the instruction of Ghristopher Gore, a distinguished 
civilian, who was not engaged in common business, but 
was consulted on affairs of importance, and attended 
court only in cases which required high acquirements 
and great powers. His library was extensive, and 
Mr. Webster sat down in his office to make himself a 
lawyer on a broad scale. He was then acquainted with 
the ordinary practice of courts. At this time he made 



12 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

himself master of special pleading ; Williams's edition 
of Saunders had not then appeared. The book was 
studied, when studied at all, in the old folio edition. 
Mr. Webster took this up, translated the Latin and 
Norman French into English, and made an abstract of 
every case in this book. This gave him a familiarity 
with the fonns of special pleading. This is a necessary 
science to every lawyer. The subtilty in the method 
of reasoning found in special pleading had its origin in 
the Aristotelian philosophy ; and if at times justice has 
been strangled by it, still it has often assisted to bring 
a subject to its points and bearings, and to give the 
powers of ratiocination a directness, that could not be 
expected under the fomi of a simple negation in reply 
to numerous allegations. At all events, it was necessary 
to be known in order to meet those, who by having 
some knowledge of it were apt to affect a superiority 
over those who had neglected to make themselves 
masters of the science. Here, too, he discovered, that 
a profound knowledge of English History was necessary 
to make a lawyer, and that law was, in a good degree, 
an historical science. 

To this end, he devoted much time to this study, 
and then he had not the facilities, which have since 
been presented to the reader. David Hume was a 
deep and learned philosopher, but he does not afford 
the student so much knowledge of the growth of English 
law as others have since done. Hume generalized 
where others have since detailed. Lingard, Turner 



L1]?E OF WEBSTEB. 13 

Hallam and others have saved the student of this day- 
many hours of laborious research, then necessary for 
those who wished for a proper share of knowledge in 
the origin and progress of English law. 

Mr. Gore having become -acquainted with tlie capacity 
and acquiremeiits of Mr. Webster, the office relation 
between them was forgotten, and they stood to each 
other on the footing of intellectual friends. This was 
a matter of importance to Mr. Webster, for Mr. Goro 
"was an elegant man. He had been a commissioner 
imder Jay's treaty, and had, in that official situation, 
resided several years in England. He was lettered and 
polite, as well as sound and emdite in his profession. 
If public stations gave him access to the higher circles 
of society, the dignity and ease of his manners and the 
graces of his person secured him consideration and 
respect. He was acquainted with most of the great 
men of his time, and he communicated his information 
with so much exactness, discrimination and taste, that 
his listeners became familiar with them also ; and no one 
profited more by these ready communications than 
Mr. Webster. No public man in our country has more 
successfully cultivated this kind of knowledge — an ac- 
quaintance with living prominent men — and this for the 
purpose of knowing how" much intellect, and how many 
the acquirements, requisite for the management of the 
political and civil w^orld. Not that Mr. Webster has 
studied, as some do, day and night, the book of English, 
Scotch and Irish peerages, or penetrated deeply into the 
2 



14 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

heraldry of distinguished commoners through one of 
the keepers of the office of family honors ; but he has 
been careful to trace the rise and progress of every 
great mind engaged in any branch of letters or science, 
or in active life. With the labors of English lawyers 
and statesmen, he was as familiar before this period, as 
books could make him ; but now he had an opportunity 
of getting from an intelligent observer what hooks could 
not teach. 

On finishing his studies for admission to the bar, he 
was introduced to the court by Mr. Gore with some 
remarks highly complimentary, prognosticating his 
future distinction while declaring his present character 
and acquirements. It was supposed that under the au- 
spices of Mr. Gore and his friends, Mr. Webster w^ould 
have commenced his professional career in Boston. 
There was a fine field for his growth, but he had made 
up his determination to return to his native State and 
cultivate his mind in the quiet of a country life, certainly 
for a while. He ventured to meet the maxim, that a 
prophet is not without honor hut in his own country, 
and returned to the vicinity of his birth-place to open 
his office. In this retreat from city life, with a good 
library, and just business enough to keep up his spirits, 
he pursued a systematic course of studies, with so much 
intensity, that his friends became alamied, thinking his 
constitution was sinking under the severity of his appli- 
cation to books. At this crisis of his fate, his friends 
persuaded him to remove to Portsmouth, the commer- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 15 

cial city of the State. Here he found a cheerful intel- 
ligent circle of friends, who made his leisure hours pass 
off happily, and he recovered from his indisposition, as 
a strong man rises from weariness and exhaustion, the 
moment he has been refreshed by rest. 

Soon after Mr. Webster had opened his office at 
Boscawen, a trial for murder came on in the county ot 
Plymouth. The court assigned him to defend the 
prisoner, although the time had not elapsed for his 
admission as a Counsellor at the Supreme Court of the 
State. The murder was foul and horrid, perpetrated 
on an innocent man — a fellow prisoner for debt. They 
were in the same room. No provocation was given by 
the sufferer, or none, that could in the slightest degree, 
palliate the offence. The fact of killing could not be 
questioned. The defence, of course, was narrowed to 
one point — the insanity of the prisoner. There were 
no proofs of his former insanity, but the malignity of his 
disposition was well known to all the country around ; 
his Counsel, nevertheless, was not deterred from going 
on, with all these fomiidable circumstances to contend 
with. He argued, that the enormity of the deed, 
perpetrated without motive, or without any of those 
motives operating upon most minds, furnished presump- 
tive proof of the alienation of the prisoner's mind ; and 
even the cool deliberation and apparent serenity which 
he exhibited at the time the deed was done, were proofs 
that reason was perverted and a momentary insanity 
had come over him. The Advocate astonished the 



16 LIFE OF WE-BSTEB, 

court and jury and all who heard him, by his deep 
knowledge of the human mind. He opened all the 
springs of action and analyzed every property of the 
mind so lucidly and philosophically, that it was a new 
school for those who heard him. He showed the differ- 
ent shapes insanity assumed from a single current of 
false reasoning upon a particular subject, while there bs 
a perfect soundness of mind on every subject, to the 
reasoning ariglit upon wrong premises, and to the 
reasoning \^Tong upon right premises, up to those par- 
oxysms of madness, when the eye is filled with strange 
sights, and the ear with strange sounds, and reason is 
entirely dethroned. As he laid open the infirmities of 
human nature, the jury were in tears, and the bystand- 
ers still more affected ; but common sense prevailed 
over argument and eloquence, and the wretch was 
convicted and executed. Notwithstanding the fate of 
the murderer, tlie s]>eech lost nothing of its effect upon 
the people. It was long the subject of conversation in 
every public place, and is often mentioned now with 
admiration. The path of a lawyer is never strewed 
with flowers ; he must be constantly harnessed for the 
contest, and he often contends with fearful odds, 
and cannot choose his cause, or his client, or his w^it- 
nesses. To discharge his duties properly he should 
have haitlihood, tact, talents and learaing, with readi- 
ness, patience and forbearaixio. In this new situation 
at Portsmouth, Mr. Webster was encompassed with 
shrewd and powerful men. Among these were two 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 17 

gentlemen very much distinguished in their profession. 
Mr. Mason from his eminent talents and skill in the 
management of causes had acquired an extensive prac- 
tice. He was witty, sarcastic, argumentative and per- 
severing, and therefore a most powerful antagonist. 
Judge Smith, who resided in a neighboring town, about 
this time returned to the bar, after having been Chief- 
Justice of the State. He was one of the best read law- 
yers in New-England, and also a fine classical scholar. 
His speaking at the bar w^as easy, fluent, playful or 
severe, as the occasion required. His opinions passed 
for law with the court and jury, and the weight of his 
character was felt in every cause in which he was 
engaged. With these and others of eminence, Mr. 
Webster had to contend at an age when most young 
lawyers are preparing themselves for future labors in 
minor causes and in inferior courts. Mr. Webster did 
not rely on his eloquence for success, but prepared him- 
self with great industry and care. He secured the 
jury by a clear statement of his case, and always used 
such plain language, that they could not misunderstand 
him ; they thought it was just such as they would have 
used, had they been called to tell the same story, not 
knowing how difficult it is to reach such a style of 
communicating our thoughts. Not two years had 
elapsed before he was considered among the first jury 
lawyers of the country. The elder practitioners now 
sharpened their wits to take the lead of him in the law 
arguments to the bench. In this they were disap- 
2* 



18 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

pointed, for he was at home there also. He argued 
his cause to the court with as i>iueh clearness and force 
as he had done with the jury. His mind, naturally 
logical, seized the strong points in a law ease, and he 
pushed his reasonings home to the understandings of 
the judges. His seniors at the bar now found it was 
better to divide the empire with him than to dispute it. 
These great men soon became his cordial friends, and 
are now amongst his warmest admirers and eulogists. 
It was natural, that one so w^ell fitted for public life 
should feel some desire to try his fortune in politics, at 
least so far as to measure his strength with those of other 
men, who had gained reputation in the halls of legisla- 
tion. He began well ; the times were stormy ; war hung 
over us ; party spirit was full of bitterness in every part 
of the country ; sound and fury took the place of fair 
discussion, and rancoi'ous feuds were in every town and 
village, but Mr. Webster entered into none of them. 
He was decided, firm and straight-forward. No politi- 
cian was ever more direct or bold ; he had nothing of 
the demagogue about him. Fully persuaded of the 
tnie course, he followed it with so much firmness and 
principle, that sometimes his serenity was taken by the 
furious and headstrong as apathy ; but when a fair and 
legitimate opportunity offered, he came out with such 
strength and manliness, that the doubting w^ere satisfied, 
and the complaining silenced. In the worst of times 
and in the darkest hour he had faith in the redeeming 
qualities of the people. They might be wrong, but he 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 19 

saw into their tme character sufficiently to believe, that [ 
they would never remain permanently in error. In some 
of his conversations upon the subject, he compared 
the people in their management of the national affairs 
to that of the sagacious and indefatigable raftsmen on 
his owTi Merrimack, who had falls and shoals to contend 
with in their course to the ocean — guiding fearlessly and 
skilfully over the fonner — ^between rocks and through 
breakers, and when reaching the sand banks jumping off 
into the water with lever, axe, and oar, and then with 
pushing, cutting and directing made all rub and go 
to the astonishment of those looking on. The first 
halo of political glory that hung around his brow was at 
a convention of the great spirits in the county of 
Rockingham, where he then resided, and such repre- 
sentatives from other counties as were sent to this con- 
vention to take into consideration the state of the nation, 
and to mark out such a course for themselves as should 
be deemed advisable by the collected wisdom of those 
assembled. On this occasion, an address with a string 
of resolutions were proposed for adoption, of which he 
was said to be the author. They exhibited uncommon 
powers of intellect and a profound knowledge of our 
national interests. He made a most powerful speech 
in support of these resolutions ; portions of which were 
reprinted at that time, and which were much admired in 
every part of the Union. From this time he belonged 
to the United States, and not to New Hampshire exclu- 
sively. IVIassachusetts seemed to take as deep an 
interest in his career as his native State. 



^0 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

Not far from this period, a traveller passing through 
Portsmouth, when some election was near at hand, when 
at the inn it was announced over the dinner table, that 
Mr. Webster was to speak at a caucus that evening. 
This news ran from one part of the town to another, and 
all were enthusiastic at hearing that Mr. Webster was 
to speak. The gentleman's carriage came to the door, 
and he was about to get into it, when the hostler said, 
* Sir, are you going to leave the town ? Mr. Webster 
is to speak to-night.' The gentleman finding all classes 
so much delighted to hear that Mr. Webster was going 
to speak, ordered his horses to the stable, and put off 
his journey until the morrow, At early candlelight he 
went to the caucus room ; it was filled to overflowing ; 
but some persons seeing that he was a stranger gave 
way, and he found a convenient place to stand ; no one 
could sit. A tremendous noise soon announced that 
the orator had arrived ; but as soon as the meeting was 
organized, another arose to make some remarks upon 
the object of the caucus. He was heard with a polite 
apathy ; another and another came, and all spoke well ; 
but this would not do, and if Chatham had been among 
them, or St. Paul, they would not have met the expec- 
tations of the multitude. The admired orator at length 
arose, and was for a while musing upon something, 
which was drowned by a constant cheering ; but when 
order was restored, he went on vriih great serenity and 
ease to make his remarks, without apparently making the 
slightest attempt to gain applause. The audience was 



lilFE OF WEBSTER. Sfl 

Still, except now and then a murmer of delight, which 
showed that the great mass of the hearers were ready 
to burst into a thunder of applause, if those who gen- 
erally set the example would have given an intimation 
that it might have been done ; but they, devouring 
every word, made signs to prevent any interruption. 
The harangue was ended ; the roar of applause lasted 
long, and was sincere and heartfelt. It was a strong, 
gentlemanly, and appropriate speech, but there was not 
a particle of the demagogue about it ; nothing like the 
speeches on the hustings, to catch attention- He drew a 
picture of the candidates on both sides of the question, 
and proved as far as reason and argument could prove, 
the superiority of those of his own choice ; but the gen- 
tleman traveller who was a very good judge, has often 
said that the most extraordinary part of it was, that a pro- 
miscuous audience should have had good sense enough 
to rehsh such sound, good reasoning, in a place where 
vague declamation generally is best received. As the 
traveller went on to the East, he found the fame of the 
speech had preceded him, and was talked of in every 
bar-room and at every public table. 

In the year 1812, Mr. Webster was elected a repre- 
sentative to Congress from the State of New Hampshire. 
The election in that State is by general ticket. He 
came to his duties with a high reputation as a politician, 
although he had never been a member of any Legisla- 
ture. It was well known that he had made himsetf 
acquainted with all the rules and orders of a delibera- 



22 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

tive body ; not only the ordinary routine of business, 
but the reasons on which these rules are founded 
were familiar to him. Hatsell was thoroughly studied, 
and all the other writers upon the subject from his 
time. It is often the case, that young members of 
Congress know but little of rules and orders, which in 
debate takes much from their ease and confidence. 

The war had been declared before he reached the 
halls of Congress, and his situation was indeed a diffi- 
cult one. National credit was shaking in the wind, 
and the public treasury nearly exhausted, when the 
Secretary of that department suggested the necessity of 
a bank, to revive the finances of the country. Mr. Web- 
ster saw a train of evils in the plan which was submitted 
to Congress, and in its passage through the House he 
proposed, that the bill should be sent to the committee 
that reported it, with instructions to make several 
amendments, which were offered by him. These 
amendments changed the character of the bill in all its 
essential features, but the prominent changes proposed 
were, that the bank should never suspend specie pay- 
ments, nor be obliged to loan more to the Government 
than might be found convenient. The amendments did 
not pass, but his arguments in favor of them served to 
defeat the bill, which was done on a third reading, the 
same day. This speech of Mr. Webster is remarkable 
for a profound knowledge of the principles on which the 
banks of the Old World had been founded, and a 
thorough history of their proceedings ; and his argu* 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 23 

ments against this plan were overwhelming. He 
showed the evils of a circulating medium not founded 
on the basis of the precious metals, and unsupported by 
the revenues of the nation. He exposed the dangers of 
giving an institution the power of suspending specie 
payments at will, and thereby destroying public credit. 
The treaty of Ghent soon followed, and public credit 
was, in some measure revived ; but still there was an 
evil in collecting the public revenue, which in 1816, 
called loudly for a remedy. The paper of banks much 
under par was taken at the Treasury office, and this 
upon the arbitrary decision of the Secretary of the 
Treasury ; selecting the bills of some banks and refusing 
those of others. Mr. Webster introduced some reso- 
lutions and made an able speech on this subject. His 
own constituents, and in fact all New-England, were 
paying, and had paid in specie, or bills equivalent to it. 
The nation opened their eyes to this great injustice, 
and the evil was remedied. 

Mr. Webster having served four years in Congress, 
found that he could not leave his profession any longer, 
but must devote himself to it, to support a growing 
family. He had, while at Washington measured his 
strength with the first minds in the country, and felt 
that he had nothing to fear from superiority. His fame 
was all hard earned ; he did not rise on the surges of 
party commotion. He was in the minority, but secured 
the respect of the majority by pursuing an upright 
course. He never opposed them when he thought they 



24 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

were right, nor feared them when he beheved them to 
be wrong. He made no attacks merely to show his 
strength, but only to vindicate himself and his friends 
when they were assailed. No one has shone in Con- 
gress with such a regular brightness, from the hour he 
first joined in the debates of that body, until the day of 
his departure fi-om the capitol. 

His labors were not confined to the House of Repre- 
sentatives alone, for he was engaged in the Supreme 
Court of the United States, in most of the important 
subjects discussed before it. Here he came in contact 
with many of the great lawyers of the day. William 
Pinkney was then in the full blaze of his glory. The 
fame of his eloquence had gone abroad into all lands. 
Senators hung upon his lips with rapture, and sage 
judges listened to him whole days with pleasure. Mr. 
Wirt was there also ; he occupied a large space in the 
eyes of the court and of the nation. His eloquence is 
of the most fascinating kind ; it convinces, persuades and 
delights : but Mr. Webster stood among these and 
others — Ogden, Jones and Sergeant, men of fii*st rate 
minds, unaffected by comparison or rivalry. Perhaps 
no practitioner at this bar ever stood higher in the 
opinion of the court than Mr. Webster. This is the 
most dignified body that ever a lawyer argued before. 
All is still and solemn ; there are no equivocating 
witnesses to manage — no sharp retorts from stinjggling 
Counsel to encounter, no whipping one's-self into 
pathos to call up the sympathies of a soft-hearted 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 25^^ 

juryman ; but every word is addressed to men whose 
passions have subsided, and who are only reached 
through the medium of the understanding. The lovers 
of trick here have no chance of displaying their art, 
nor the pertinacious brow-beater his impudence. Every 
thing around the advocate is formed to inspire respect 
for himself and the court. 

On returning from public life, Mr. Webster found his 
pecuniary interests had suffered from his long absence 
from the courts, and his friends were disposed to believe, 
that Boston would be a much better place for him than 
Portsmouth. He had already become identified with the 
interests of the commercial metropolis of New-England, 
and many of the opulent merchants were ready to em- 
ploy him. He was induced to believe, that he ought to 
remove, and he did remove in 1817. Boston was then 
the residence of some of the first lawyers of the nation. 
Dexter was living, and as an advocate seemed to be 
acknowledged without a rival in New-England. Pres- 
cott, one of the most learned and prudent lawyers of 
his age had removed from Salem some half dozen years 
before to Boston, and was engaged in all the commercial 
causes before the courts. These men were much his 
seniors, but there was a considerable number of those 
near his own age who, eminent in the profession, — 
Sullivan, Shaw, Gorham, Hubbard and others of the 
same class, — were active in the courts and had as much 
business as they could attend to. There seemed to 
be but little room for another in the upper row of 
3 



26 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

lawyei"s. In the lower courts of the Temple of 
Themis adventurers are every day crowding onward ; 
to the upper it is hard to gain access, but Mr. Webster 
seemed to walk in as a matter of course ; some staring, 
but no one venturing to question his right to be there. 
In a few months, his name was found as senior Counsel 
in many important causes, and he felt as if it was his 
birth-place. His practice was not confined to the 
county of Suffolk, but extended to the neighboring 
counties of Essex, Middlesex, Norfolk, Plymouth, and 
still further. His powers as an advocate and a lawyer 
were at once conceded, though some found fault with 
his manners at the bar, as severe and sharp ; this, how- 
ever, was soon forgotten in the admiration that every- 
where followed him. It was in vain for his rivals, if 
any he had, to hold out in any fair opposition to him, 
for the great mass of the people were with him, and in 
an intelligent community their power is irresistible. 

Soon after Mr. Webster was settled in Boston, he was 
called to the county of Essex, to defend two prisoners 
by the name of Kenniston. They were charged with 
having robbed a Major Goodrich, in that county, on the 
evening of the l^th December, 1817. The public had 
been much agitated by this event. The Major had 
distinguished himseli* when the British landed at Bangor, 
in Maine. He W3S also in good credit in that place. 
The circumstances of the robbery as stated by him were 
singular. It was alleged to have taken place early in 
the evening, in Newbury, on the main post-road from 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 27 

Portsmouth to Boston. The Major was shot through 
the palm of the left hand, between the third and fourth 
fingers. The wound was small. Some of the money 
said to have been taken firom his person was found on 
the ground, to which he stated he had been carried for 

\ the purpose of effecting the robbery without noise. 
Some slight marks of the point of a penknife were found 
on his body. He had with great difficulty made his 
way to the nearest public house, apparently in a state of 
delirium. Shortly after this, he implicated the landlord 
of the inn as an accomplice in the robbery ; but before 
proceeding against him, — for this was rather a fearful 
business, as the man had many friends, — he had heard 
that the Kenniston's were within a short distance of the 
place, on the night of the 19th. They were ignorant 
beings, without character for intellectual capacity or 
moral honesty : they had the day before the robbery 
come from their home in New-Hampshire to the town 
of Newburyport, and w^ere w^andering about that night 

^ separately for amusement, and when arrested on sus- 

^ picion, could not prove exactly how they had passed the 
evening, and probably hardly knew. Goodrich swore, 
that he believed these men were a part of the gang that 

^ robbed him, and they were sent to prison, of course, as 
bail could not be obtained by them under such charges. 
Goodrich, with several assistants, repaired straightway 
" to the domicile of the Kenniston's, and on searching 
the premises found gold and bills (which he said had 
been taken fi:om him) in the pocket of a pair of panta- 



28 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

loonSj and also under a pork baiTeL Tlie guilt of the 
prisoners seemed irrevocably fixed — the sympathies of 
the public were highly excited in favor of Goodrich, 
and he was going on triumphantly to convict the pris- 
oners, when some singularities of his story gave rise to 
suspicions, that all was not right. A few were deter- 
mined, that the prisoners should be well defended, and 
the whole matter thoroughly investigated ; and for this 
purpose Mr. Webster was engaged to be of Counsel- in 
tlie defence. When he came to the court, he was not 
apprized of the ground of the defence, on which the 
prisoner's counsel intended to rely, namely, that it was 
a sham robbery. He was startled at the suggestion 
when it was first made, but patiently hearing a detailed' 
account of all the circumstances which had led to this 
conclusion that this was the right defence, he, after 
weighing them thoroughly^ made up his opinion that 
there had had been no robbery, and directed the junior 
counsel so to open the defence. He had never argued 
a cause before in the county of Essex. Goodrich had 
many respectable connexions in the county. He was 
born at Dan vers, a town within the limits of the county.. 
His connexions and friends were good, honest people,, 
and had no sitspicion of any foul play in the affair.. 
They flocked from affection and curiosity to the trial. 
Tlie nature of the defence was not known, except to a 
few, before it was opened. The Solicitor-General 
proved the robbery and guilt of the prisoners to the sat- 
isfaction of all in the court-house. The cross-exam j- 



<< 



LirE OF WEBSTER. 29 

nation by Mr. Webster was terrifick. He fixed his eyes 
upon Goodrich, and putting his questions with such 
adroitness and force, and with such a heavy solemn 
tone of voice, that in less than ten minutes he had 
made several palpable contradictions in his testimony. 
This advantage was followed up with great skill, and 
before the prosecutor had left the stand^ public opinion 

. was decidedly against him. The argument of Mr. 
Webster followed ; it was convincing, conclusive, un- 
answerable. He seized the strong points of the de- 
fence, and handled them with a giant's power. The 
prejudices against the Kenniston's were removed, and a 
weight of moral guilt thro\\'n on their persecutor that 
has never been removed to this day. The Solicitor- 
General was at once convinced by the argument he had 
heard, that Goodrich was a self-robber, but he stiiiggled 
manfully against his own convictions and the impressions 
of the jury, and in fact of the audience ; for in such in- 
stances there is an influence in the looks of the audience 
which often reaches the jury-box, and sometimes the 

. bench of justice. The judge who sat in the cause, was 
a distant relation of the Major's, but he tried it with 
great fairness and independence. His charge to the jury 
was lucid and impartial, and the result was an acquittal 
of the prisoners. The people of Essex are among the 
most enlightened portions of the United States, but 

^ they are, like all enlightened people, of a mercurial 
temperament, and the cun-ent of their feehngs set against 
the prisonei-s ; but this current was met and turned by 
3* 



so LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

ihe arguments addressed to their understandings. There 
Avas no appeal to their sympathies for these imbecile^ 
liumhle and pitiable beings : the single question pre- 
sented was, are they, or are they not guilty ? The 
triumph of truth and talents was complete. The eyes 
of the audience were riveted on the advocate w^hile 
he was speaking, and followed him when he left the 
court-house. This was the first argument of irripor- 
tance he had made in his newly adopted State. 

In the year 1818, Mr. Webster was engaged in the 
Dartmouth College case which had made a great ex- 
citement in New-England. In 1816, the Legislature 
of New-Hampshire, believing that the right of altering 
or amending the charter of this college, w^hich had been 
granted by the king previous to the revolution, was 
vested in them by the constitution of the State, pro- 
ceeded to enlarge and improve it. This act was not 
accepted nor assented to by the trustees of Dartmouth 
College, and they refused to submit to it any further 
tlian they were compelled to do so by the necessities 
of the case. Thenew institution called by the act of 
the Legislature, ' The Dartmouth University,' went 
into operation, as far as existing circumstances would 
pennit. There were two Presidents, two sets of Pro- 
fessors in the same village, and of course, no good 
fellowship between them. The students generally 
took side with the college party, a few only going over 
to the university. It was a very uncomfortable state 
of things.. The Faculty of both institutions were highly 



LIVE OF WEBSTEfi. 31 

respectable, and capable of building up any literary 
and scientific seminary, had they been under different 
auspices. The lawyers were consulted, and the most 
distinguished of them, Smith, Mason, and Webster were 
of the opinion, that the act of the Legislature of New- 
Hampshire was unconstitutional, and of course not 
valid. It was conceded, that there were many difficul- 
ties in the case ; but it was indispensable, that the ques- 
tion should be decided, that one of the institutions might 
survive the quaiTel. The records, charter and the 
evidence of the college property, were in the hands of 
the new treasurer, and an action of trover was brought 
by the trustees of Dartmouth College to recover them. 
The facts were agreed on. The question ' whether the 
acts of the Legislature of New-Hampshire of the 27th 
of June, and of the 16th and ISth of December, 1816, 
are valid and binding on the rights of the plaintiffs, 
ivithout their acceptance or assent V 

It was a great constitutional question. The people 
of Massachusetts took as deep an interest in it as those 
of New-Hampshire. The cause was ably argued before 
the Supreme Court of New-Hampshire, and the opin- 
ion of the court v>'as given by Chief- Justice Richardson, 
in favor of the validity and constitutionality of the acts 
of the Legislature, and judgment was accordingly en- 
tered up for the defendant. Thereupon, a writ of error 
v>^as sued out by the plaintlfts in the original suit, and 
the cause removed to the Supreme Court of the United 
States. In March, 1818, the cause was argued before 



32 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

all the judges, by Mr. Webster and Mr. Hopkinson for 
the plaintiffs, and by Mr. Holmes and Mr. Wirt for the 
defendant in error. The anxiety of the parties, the 
great constitutional principle involved, the deep interest 
felt by every lawyer in the country in the decision of 
the question, gave more notoriety to the cause than to 
any ever brought before that august tribunal. Some 
were apprehensive that the court would evade the 
question in some way or other. Mr. Webster had no 
such fears. He knew the judges well enough to believe, 
that while they were not anxious to meet constitutional 
questions, whenever they were fully brought before 
them the subject would be most solemnly considered 
and as fearlessly decided. The question was argued on 
both sides with great ability. The counsel were men 
of research, and their reputations were in the case, 
for it was well known whatever way it was decided, it 
would form a leading case. Mr. Webster came to his 
work fully possessed of all the views that could be 
taken of the subject, and he sustained and increased by 
this argument the reputation he had acquired as a pro- 
found constitutional lawyer. The judgment of the 
State court ^vas reversed — the acts of the Legislature 
declared null and void as being unconstitutional. The 
University disappeared, the college rose with new vigor, 
and the people of New-Hampshire acquiesced in the 
decision, and a great portion of the thinking people of 
the country considered it as a new proof of the wisdom 
and strength of the constitution of the United States. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 33 

In 1820, the people of the commonweahh of Mas- 
sachusetts thought it was time to revise their State con- 
stitution. There were some things in it which required 
amendment, particularly the oath of attachment and 
adherence to the independence of the commonwealth, 
and the adjuration of allegiance to all foreign princes 
and potentates whatsoever, wore not a little of the dra- 
pery of revolutionary suspicion ; and, as the letter of 
the oath was construed, it was supposed to extend to 
the exclusion of all Catholics from every office under 
the government of the commonwealth. It was also 
thought that the number of representatives which the 
towns had a right to send was far too many for prompt 
and sagacious legislation. In fact forty years had 
passed away smce the old constitution was formed, and 
a free people wished to come together to discuss the 
blessings of liberty, and to examine their charter and 
see if there were not some amendments to be made. 
This was natural, as for the lord of the manor to 
examine his grounds, or the miser to count his gold. 
The convention was large, composed of all classes of 
that enlightened community. The distinguished states- 
men, of course, were in that body ; lawyers, who had 
not become statesmen, were there also. Clergymen, 
who had never before departed from the duties of their 
parish and the care of souls, found themselves in this 
great body, they hardly knew how — ready to assist in 
revising the constitution ; and medical men, whose field 
of fame had been in the lecture-room, or in the anatom- 



34 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

ical theatre, or in the walks of the hospital, now found 
themselves collected with others to amend the consti- 
tution. Indeed, men, of all pursuits in life were con- 
gregated for the purpose of discussing the best model 
of a republican constitution. For weight, talents, ac- 
quirements, moral worth and political science, this body- 
was superior to any one ever assembled in New- 
England. Their first act, was one of duty and grati- 
tude ; this was in electing the venerable John Adams, 
of Quincy, to preside over their deliberations. The 
old constitution was from his pen. He declined the 
appointment, and the accomplished Chief-Justice of the 
Commonwealth, Isaac Parker, was chosen in his place. 
Look over the hall which way you would, and virtue, 
genius, experience, clustered in every quarter. Here, 
were heads silvered with age, — there, bosoms sweUing 
w4th patriotism, and every where tongues of fire to 
pour out the tide of eloquence. To the republican 
philosopher it was a sight full of pleasure and pride. 
The youths of the land gazed with wonder on the scene, 
and as they had venerated each as individuals, they 
now almost adored the collected whole. No man 
looked upon the assembly with a keener eye and a 
deeper feeling than the Nestor of the convention — 
Adams. Some of his compatriots were there ; many 
of a succeeding generation were there ; but the actors 
were men of a third generation. He had known 
but a few of the last, and was delighted to find so 
much character and intelligence among them. The 



LIFE or WEBSTER. 35 

improvements of the age were all familiar to them. 
From the loop-holes of retreat, in sound health, he had 
watched the advancements in knowledge in the old 
world, and he was delighted to find his young country- 
men had marched onward with equal step. He had no 
fears for the result of their deliberations ; the seal of 
freedom and the stamp of knowledge were set too 
deeply to be injured by any new feelings or reasoning, 
nor had he any apprehension for their heads or hearts, 
as he was delighted in numbering, measuring or gaug- 
ing, the capacities of his younger countrymen. He 
considered Mr. Webster as decidedly the great man of 
this assembly, and with his usual openness avowed his 
opinion ; it was the general opinion, and freely acknowl- 
edged by all. On almost every subject, Mr. Webster 
was necessarily called out, and acquitted himself with 
honor ; but there were some questions agitated in that 
assembly in which he took a very conspicuous part. 
On the resolution relative to the oaths of office, Mr. 
Webster made a speech full of sound sense ; he advo- 
cated the principle, that the people had a right to insist 
on a declaration of a belief in the Christian religion 
from those who accepted offices, as offices were the 
gift of the people, and not a matter of right ; still he 
did not think the requisition absolutely necessary, or 
essential, as the people w^re fully guarded in this re- 
< spect by the very general belief in the Christian reli- 
gion in the community. 



K 



3^ LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

* It is obvious,' said Mr. Webster, * that the principal 
alteration proposed by the first resolution, is the omission 
of the declaration of belief in the Christian religion, as ; 
a qualification for office, in the cases of the governor; [ 
lieutenant-governor, counsellors, and members of the 
Legislature. I shall content myself on this occasion with 
stating, shortly and generally, the sentiments of the select 
committee, as I understand them, on the subject of this 
resolution. Two questions naturally present themselves. 
In the first place, have the people a right if in their 
judgment the security of their government and its due 
administration demand it, to require a declaration of belief 
in the Christian religion, as a qualification or condition 
of office ? On this question, a majority of the committee 
held a decided opinion. They thought the people had 
such a right. By the fundamental principle of popular 
and elective governments, all office is in the free gift of 
the people. They may grant, or they may withhold it 
at pleasure ; and if it be for them, and them only, to 
decide whether they will grant ofl5ce, it is for them to 
decide, also, on what terms, and with what conditions, 
they will grant it. Nothing is more unfounded than the 
notion that any man has a right to an office. This must 
depend on the choice of others, and consequently upon 
the opinions of others, in relation to his fitness and 
qualification for office. No man can be said to have a 
right to that, which others may withhold from him at 
pleasure. There are certain rights, no doubt, which the 
whole people, or the government as representing the 
whole people, owe to each individual, in return for that 
obedience and personal service, and proportionate con- 
tributions to the public burdens, which each individual 
owes to the government. These rights are stated with 
sufficient accuracy, in the tenth article of the Bill of 
Rights, in this constitution. " Each individual in so- 
ciety has a right to be protected by it in the enjoyment 
of his life, liberty, and property, according to the stand- 
ing laws." Here is no right of office enumerated ; no 
right of governing others, or of bearing rule in the State. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER* 37 

All bestowment of office remaining in the discretion of 
the people, they have of course a right to regulate it, by 
any rules which they may deem expedient. Hence the 
people, by their constitution, prescribe certain qualifica- 
tions for office, respecting age, property, residence, &lc. 
But if office, merely as such, were a right, which each 
individual under the social compact was entitled to 
claim, all these qualifications would be indefensible. 
The acknowledged rights are not subject, and ought not 
to be subject, to any such limitation. The right of 
being protected, in life, liberty, and estate, is due to all, 
and cannot be justly denied to any, whatever be their 
age, property, or residence in the State. These qualifi- 
cations, then, can only be made requisite as qualifica- 
tions for office, on the ground that office is not what any 
man can demand, as matter of right, but rests in the 
confidence and good will of those who are to bestow it. 
In short, it seems to me too plain to be questioned, that 
the right of office is a matter of discretion and option, 
and can never be claimed by any man on the ground of 
obligation. It would seem to follow, then, that those 
who confer office may annex any such conditions to it as 
they think proper. If they prefer one man to another, 
they may act on that preference. If they regard certain 
personal qualifications, they may act accordingly, and 
ground of complaint is given to nobody. Between two 
candidates, otherwise equally qualified, the people at 
an election, may decide in favor of one because he is a 
Christian, and against the other because he is not. 
They may repeat this preference at the next election, on 
the same ground, and may continue it from year to year. 
Now, if the people may, without injustice, act upon this 
preference, and from a sole regard to this qualification, 
and refuse in any instance to depart from it, they have 
an equally clear right to prescribe this qualification, be- 
vi forehand, as a rule for their future government. If they 
may do it, they may agree to do it. If they deem it 
necessary, they may so say, beforehand. If the public 
will may require this qualification at every election as it 



38 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

occurs, the public will may declare itself beforehand ; 
and make such qualification a standing requisite. That 
cannot be an unjust rule, the compliance with which, in 
every case, would be right. This qualification has noth- 
ing to do with any man's conscience. If he dislike the 
condition, he may decline the office ; in like manner as 
if he dislike the salary, the rank, or anything else which 
the law attaches to it. However clear the right may be, 
(and I can hardly suppose any gentleman will dispute it,) 
the expediency of retaining the declaration is a more 
difficult question. It is said not to be necessary, be- 
cause, in this Commonwealth, ninety-nine out of every 
hundred of the inhabitants profess to believe in the 
Christian religion. It is sufficiently certain, therefore, 
that persons of this description, and none others, will 
ordinarily be chosen to places of public trust. There is 
as much security, it is said, on this subject, as the ne- 
cessity of the case requires. And as there is a sort of 
opprobrium — a marking out, for observation and censo- 
rious remark, a single individual, or a very few individ- 
uals, who may not be able to make the declaration, — it is 
an act, if not of injustice, yet of unkindness, and of un- 
necessary rigor, to call on such individuals to make the 
declaration. There is also another class of objections, 
which have been stated. It has been said, that there 
are many very devout and serious persons — persons who 
esteem the Christian religion to be above all price — to 
whom, nevertheless, the terms of this declaration seem 
somewhat too strong and intense. They seem, to these 
persons, to require the declaration of that/m77i which is 
deemed essential to personal salvation ; and, therefore, 
not at all fit to be adopted, by those who profess a belief 
in Christianity merely, in a more popular and general 
sense. It certainly appears to me, that this is a mis- 
taken interpretation of the terms ; that they imply only 
a general assent to the truth of the Christian revelation, 
and, at most, to the supernatural occurrences which es- 
tablish its authenticity. There may, however, and there 
appears to be, conscience in this objection ; and all con- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 39 

science ought to be respected. I was not aware, before 
I attended the discussions in the committee, of the 
extent to which this objection prevailed. There is one 
other consideration to which I will allude, although it 
was not urged in committee. It is this. This qualifi- 
cation is made applicable only to the executive and the 
members of the Legislature. It would not be easy, per- 
haps, to say why it should not be extended to the ju- 
diciary, if it were thought necessary for any office. 
There can be no office in which the sense of religious 
responsibility is more necessary, than in that of a judge ; 
especially of those judges who pass, in the last resort, 
on the lives, liberty and property of every man. There 
may be among legislators, strong passions and bad pas- 
sions. There may be party heats and personal bitter- 
ness. But legislation is in its nature general : laws usu- 
ally affect the whole society ; and if mischievous or 
unjust, the whole society is alarmed, and seeks their 
repeal. The judiciary power, on the other hand, acts 
directly on individuals. The injured may suffer, with- 
out sympathy or the hope of redress. The last hope of 
the innocent, under accusation, and in distress, is in the 
integrity of his judges. If this fail, all fails ; and there 
is no remedy, on this side the bar of Heaven. Of all 
places, therefore, there is none which so imperatively 
demands, that he who occupies it should be under the 
fear of God, and above all other fear, as the situation of 
a judge. For these reasons, perhaps, it might be 
thought, that the constitution has not gone far enough, 
if the provisions already in it were deemed necessary to 
the public security. I believe I have stated the sub- 
stance of the reasons which appeared to have weight 
with the committee. For my own part, finding this 
declaration in the constitution, and hearing of no prac- 
tical evil resulting from it, I should have been willing to 
retain it, unless considerable objection had been ex- 
pressed to it. If others were satisfied with it I should 
be. I do not consider it, however, essential to retain it, 
as there is another part of the constitution which recog- 



40 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

nises, in the fullest manner, the benefits which civrl 
society derives from those Christian institutions which 
cherish piety, morality and religion. I am conscious, 
that we should not strike out of the constitutian all re- 
cosrnition of the Christian religion, I am desirous, in 
80 solemn a transaction as the establishment of a consti- 
tution, that we should keep in it an expression of our 
respect and attachment to Christianity ; — not, indeed, to 
any of its peculiar forms, but to its general principles.' 

There was another impression, which had become 
quite prevalent m the Convention, among many who l] 
formerly were sturdy advocates for an opposite doc- 
trine — namely, that the Commonwealth's senators 
should be based upon population, as well as the other 
branch of the Legislature, and that districts should be 
made upon this principle. Mr. Webster's argument on 
this article was elaboi^te and powerful. He entered 
into the gi-eat principles of checks and balances in a 
political constitution. Tlie argument was warmly op- 
posed by many who might be supposed to be interested 
on his side of the question. This speech had a most 
wonderful effect, and many of the members who had 
been of a different opinion, declared that they were 
convinced that he was right. In this argument he 
brought the experience of all times to bear upon the 
subject so fully and happily, that those who opposed 
him still lost much of the zeal with which they had 
supported the other side of the debate at the com- 
mencement of it. 

The third prominent speech in this Convention was 
made upon '■ a resolution to alter the Constitution so 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 41 

that judicial officers shall be removable by the Gov- 
ernor and Council upon the address of two-thirds, in- 
stead of a majority, of each branch of the Legislature, 
and that the Legislature have power to create a Su- 
preme Court of Efjulty and Court of Appeals.' The 
remarks of Mr. Webster were so brief and so compact, 
and yet so full of sound sense on these subjects, that an 
extract from the speech would do him injustice, there- 
fore we give it entire. 

' Regrets are vain for what is past ; yet I hardly know 
how it has been thought to be a regular course of pro- 
ceeding, to go into committee on this subject, before 
taking up the several propositions which now await their 
final readings on the President's table. The conse- 
quence is, that this question comes on by surprise. The 
chairman of the select committee is not present ; many 
of the most distinguished members of the convention are 
personally so situated, as not to be willing to take part 
in the debate, — and the first law officer of the govern- 
ment, a member of the committee, happens at this mo- 
ment to be in a place (the chair of the committee of the 
whole) which deprives us of the benefit of his observa- 
tions. Under these circumstances, I had hoped the com- 
mittee would rise ; it has, however, been determined 
otherwise, and I must therefore beg their indulgence 
while I make a few^ observations. 

'As the constitution now stands, all judges are liable 
to be removed from office, by the Governor, with the con- 
sent of the council, on the address of the two houses of 
the Legislature. It is not made necessarv that the two 
houses should give any reasons for their address, or tiiat 
the judge should have an opportunity to be heard. I 
look upon this as against common right, as well as re- 
pugnant to the general principles of the Government. 

The commission of the judge purports to be, on the face 

4* 



42 LflFE OF WEBSTER, 

of it, during good behavior. He has an interest in his 
office. To give an authority to the Legislature to deprive 
him of this, without trial or accusation, is manifestly to 
place the judges at the pleasure of the Legislature. 

* The question is not what the Legislature probably wili 
do, but what they may do. If the judges, in fact, hold 
their offices only so long as the Legislature see fit, then it 
is vain and illusory to say that the judges are indepen- 
dent men, incapable of being influenced by hope or by 
fear ; but the tenure of their office is not independent. 
The general theory and principle of the Government is 
broken in upon, by giving the Legislature this power. 
The departments of Government are not equal, co-ordi- 
nate and independent, while one is thus at the mercy of 
the others. What would be said of a proposition to 
authorise the Governor or judges to remove a senator, or 
member of the house of representatives from office ? — 
And yet, the general theory of the constitution is to make 
the judges as independent as members of the Legislature. 
I know not whether a greater improvement has been 
made in government than to separate the judiciary from 
the executive and legislative branches, and to provide for 
the decision of private rights, in a manner, wholly unin- 
fluenced by reasons of state, or considerations of party or 
of policy. It is the glory of the British constitution to 
have led in the establishment of this most important prin- 
ciple. It did not exist in England before the revolution 
of 1688, and its introduction has seemed to give a new 
character to the tribunals. It is not necessary to state 
the evils which had been experienced, in that country, 
from dependent and time-serving judges. In matters of 
mere propriety, in causes of no political or public bear- 
ing, they might perhaps be safely trusted ; but in great 
questions concerning public liberty, or the rights of the 
subject, they were, in too many cases, not fit to be 
trusted at all. Who would now quote Scroggs, or Saun- 
ders, or Jeffries, on a question concerning the right of 
the habeas corpus, or the right of suffrage, or the liberty 
of the press, or any other subject closely connected with 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 43 

political freedom ? Yet on all these subjects, the senti- 
ments of the English judges since the revolution, — of 
Soniers, Holt, Jreby, Jekyl, &,c., are, in general, favor- 
able to civil liberty, and receive and deserve great atten- 
tion, whenever referred to. Indeed, Massachusetts her- 
self knows, by her own history, what is to be expected 
from dependent judges. Her own charter was declared 
forfeited, without a hearing, in a court where such judges 
sat. 

' When Charles the second, and his brother after him, 
attempted the destruction of chartered rights, both in the 
kingdom and out of it, the mode was by judgments ob- 
tained in the courts. It is well known, that after the 
prosecution against the city of London was commenced, 
and while it was pending, the judges were changed ; and 
Saunders, who had been consulted on the occasion, and 
had advised the proceeding on the part of the crown, was 
made chief-justice for the very purpose of giving a judg- 
ment in favor of the crovrn ; his predecessor being re- 
moved to make room for him. Since the revolution of 
1688, an entire new character has been given to English 
judicature. The judges have been made independent, 
and the benefit has been widely and deeply felt. A simi- 
lar improvement seems to have made its way into Scot- 
land. Before the union of the kingdoms, it cannot be 
said that there was any judicial independence in Scot- 
land ; and the highest names in Scottish jurisprudence 
have been charged with being under influences which 
could not, in modern times, be endured. It is even said 
that the practice of entails did not extensively exist in 
Scotland till about the time of the reigns of the last 
princes of the Stuart race, and was then introduced to 
guard against unjust forfeitures. It is strange indeed, 
that thi? should happen at so late a period, and that a 
most unnatural and artificial state of property should be 
owing to the fear of dependent judicatures. I might add 
here,°that the heritahh jurisdictiojis, the greatest almost 
of all evils, were not abolished in Scotland till about the 
middle of the last century ; so slowly does improvement 



44 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

make progress when opposed by ignorance, prejudice or 
interest. 

' In our own country, it was for years a topic of com- 
plaint, before the revolution, that justice was adminis- 
tered, in some of the colonies, by judges dependent on 
the British crown. The Declaration of Independence 
itself, puts forth this as a prominent grievance, among 
those which justified the revolution. The British king, 
it declares, "had made judges dependent on his own will 
alone, for the tenure of their offices." It was therefore 
to be expected, that in establishing their own govern- 
ments, this important point of the independence of the 
judicial power would be regarded by the States. Some 
of them have made greater, and others less provision on 
this subject; the more recent constitutions, I believe, 
being generally framed with the most and best guards for 
judicial independence. 

' Those who oppose any additional security for the 
tenure of judicial office, have pressed to know what evil 
has been experienced — what injury has arisen from the 
constitution as it is. Perhaps none ; — but if evils pro- 
bably may arise, the question is, whether the subject be 
not so important as to render it prudent to guard against 
that evil. If evil do arise, we may be sure it will be a 
great evil ; if this power should happen to be abused, it 
would be most mischievous in its consequences. It is 
not a sufficient answer, to say that we have as yet felt no 
inconvenience. We are bound to look to probable future 
events. We have, too, the experience of other States. 
Connecticut, having had judges appointed annually, from 
the time of Charles the second, in the recent alteration 
of her constitution, has provided, that hereafter they shall 
hold their office during good behavior, subject to removal 
on the ^.ddress oi^ i2iw-t hi r els of each house of the Legisla- 
ture. In Pennsylvania, the judges may be removed, 
*' for any reasonable cause," on the address o^ two-thirds 
of the two houses. In some of the States, thrcc-foiirths 
of each house is required. The new constitution of 
Maine has a provision, with which I should be content ; 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 45 

U'hich is, that no judge shall be liable to be removed by 
the Legislature till the matter of his accusation has been 
made known to him, and he has had an opportunity of 
being heard in his defence. This seems no more than 
common justice ; and yet it is much greater than any 
security which at present exists in the constitution of this 
commonwealth. 

* It will be found, if I mistake not, that there are not 
more than two or three, out of all the States, which have 
left the tenure of judicial office at the entire pleasure of 
the Legislature. It cannot be denied, that one great 
object of written constitutions is to keep the departments 
of Government as distinct as possible ; and for this pur- 
pose to impose restraints. And it is equally true, that 
there is no department on which it is more necessary to 
impose restraints than the Legislature. The tendency of 
things is almost always to augment the power of that 
department, in its relation to the judiciary. The judi- 
ciary is composed of few persons, and those not such as 
mix habitually in the pursuits and objects which most 
engage public men. They are not, or never should be, 
political men. They have often unpleasant duties to 
perform, and their conduct is often liable to be canvassed 
and censured, where their reasons for it are not known, 
or cannot be understood. The Legislature holds the 
public purse. It fixes the compensation of all other 
departments : it applies, as well as raises, all revenue. 
It is a numerous body, and necessarily carries along 
with it a great force of public opinion. Its members are 
public men, in constant contact with one another, and 
with their constituents. It would seem to be plain 
enough, that, without constitutional provisions which 
should be fixed and certain, such a department, in case 
of excitement, would be able to encroach on the judi- 
ciary. Therefore is it, that a security of judicial indepen- 
dence becomes necessary ; and the question is, whether 
that independence be at present sufficiently secured. 

' The constitution being the supreme law, it follows of 
course, that every act of the Legislature, contrary to that 



46 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

law, must be void. But who shall decide this question 1 
Shall the Legislature itself decide it ? If so, then the 
constitution ceases to be a legal and becomes only a 
moral restraint on the Legislature. If they, and they 
only, are to judge whether their acts be conformable to 
the constitution, then the constitution is admonitory or 
advisory only ; not legally binding ; because, if the con- 
struction of it rest wholly with them, their discretion, in 
particular cases, may be in favor of very erroneous and 
dangerous constructions. Hence the courts of law, 
necessarily, when the case arises, must decide upon the 
validity of particular acts. — These cases are rare, at least 
in this Commonwealth ; but they would probably be less 
so, if the power of the judiciary, in this respect, were 
less respectable than it is. 

* It is the theory and plan of the constitution to re- 
strain the Legislature, as well as other departments, and 
to subject their acts to judicial decision, whenever it 
appears that such acts infringe constitutional limits ; and 
without this check, no certain limitation could exist on 
the exercise of legislative power. The constitution, for 
example, declares, that the Legislature shall not suspend 
the benefit of the writ of habeas corpus^ except under 
certain limitations. If a law should happen to be passed 
restraining personal liberty, and an individual, feeling 
oppressed by it, should apply for his habeas corpus, must 
not the judges decide what is the benefit of habeas cor- 
pus, intended by the constitution ; what it is to suspend 
it, and whether the acts of the Legislature do, in the 
given case, conform to the constitution ? All these 
questions would of course arise. The judge is bound 
by his oath to decide according to law. The constitu- 
tion is the supreme law. Any act of the Legislature, 
therefore, inconsistent with that supreme law, must yield 
to it ; and any judge, seeing this inconsistency, and yet 
giving effect to the law, would violate both his duty and 
his oath. But it is evident that this power, to be useful, 
must be lodged in independent hands. If the Legislature 
may remove judges at pleasure, assigning no cause for 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 47 

such removal, of course it is not to be expected that they 
would often find decisions against the constitutionality of 
their own acts. If the Legislature should, unhappily, be 
in a temper to do a violent thing, it would probably take 
care to see that the bench of justice was so constituted 
as to agree with it in opinion. 

* It is unpleasant to allude to other States for negative 
examples ; yet, if any one were inclined to the inquiry, 
it might be found, that cases had happened in which 
laws, known to be at best very questionable as to their 
consistency with the constitution, had been passed ; and 
at the same session, effectual measures taken, under the 
power of removal by address, to create a new bench. 
Such a coincidence might be accidental ; but the hap- 
pening of such accidents often would destroy the balance 
of free governments. The history of all the States, I 
believe, shows the necessity of settled limits to legisla- 
tive power. There are reasons, entirely consistent with 
upright and patriotic motives, which, nevertheless, evince 
the danger of legislative encroachments. The subject is 
fully treated by Mr. Madison, in some numbers of the 
Federalist, which well deserve the consideration of the 
convention. 

' There is nothing, after all, so important to individ- 
uals as the upright administration of justice. This 
comes home to every man ; life, liberty, reputation, prop- 
erty, all depend on this. No Government does its duty 
to the people, which does not make ample and stable 
provision for the exercise of this part of its powers. Nor 
is it enough, that there are courts which will deal justly 
with mere private questions. We look to the judicial 
tribunal for protection against illegal or unconstitutional 
acts, from whatever quarter they may proceed. The 
courts of law, independent judges, and enlightened juries, 
are citadels of popular liberty, as well as temples of pri- 
vate justice. The most essential rights connected with 
political liberty, are there canvassed, discussed, and 
maintained ; and if it should at any time so happen that 
these rights should be invaded, there is no remedy but a 



48 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

reliance on the courts, to protect and vindicate them. 
There is danger, also, that legislative bodies will some- 
times pass laws interfering with other private rights, 
besides those connected with political liberty. Individ- 
uals are too apt to apply to the legislative power to inter- 
fere with private cases, or private property ; and such 
applications sometimes meet with favor and support. 
There would be no security, if these interferences were 
not subject to some subsequent constitutional revision, 
where all parties could be heard, and justice adminis- 
tered according to standing laws. 

* These considerations are among those which, in ray 
opinion, render an independent judiciary equally essen- 
tial to the preservation of private rights and public liberty. 
I lament the necessity of deciding this question at the 
present moment ; and should hope, if such immediate 
decision were not demanded, that some modification of 
this report might prove acceptable to the committee, 
since, in my judgment, some provision, beyond what 
exists in the present constitution, is necessary.' 

While Mr. Webster was engaged in the arduous 
duties of the Convention, he was called, by a voice he 
could not resist, to again bring himself before the pub- 
lic. This call w^as from the Pilgrim Society, who 
were to assemble at Plymouth to commemorate the 
close of the second century, since the landing of their 
forefathers, on the 22d of December, 1620 ; and to 
usher in the third century with feelings elevated, but 
chastened, and to pour out their hearts in gratitude for 
the past, wdiile their souls were lighted up with hopes 
for future generations. The Society had existed for 
many years, and several judicious sermons and orations 
had been dehvered before that body of men, who 
wished to keep alive a just remembrance of their an- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 49 

cestors ; but never was the excitement among the sons 
of the pilgrims so great as at this anniversary. Two 
hundred years had passed away since the event they 
celebrated, and time-honored monuments were scat- 
tered through the country. The nation was at peace 
with all the world. The trees which the pilgrims once 
planted had grown great and prolific, and their children 
alone plucked the fruit. There was no spoiler in the 
land, and all traces of a hostile foot were obliterated 
from the soil of their birth-place. The scattered rem- 
nants of the red men were now regarded with com- 
passion, not with fear ; the aborigines had fallen like 
autumnal leaves, and no second spring had renewed 
them. The little cloud, which appeared two centuries 
ago not bigger than a man's hand on the horizon, had 
now spread over the whole hemisphere, to refresh the 
country. The sufferings of the pilgrims could not now 
be spared; no, not one of them, for they at this 
period shone as gems in a martyr's crown. No ordi- 
nary voice could have sung the requium of two cen- 
turies ; no common hand could have \^Titten their 
epitaphs ; and no prophet of partial inspiration could 
have ventured upon the unborn ages, wliich crowded 
on their souls. 

The orator came to his task as one prepared, — as 
one deeply read in the mouldering monuments of his 
country's deeds. Their acts of peace and of war were 
in his mind. Their sufferings and their triumphs were 
all in the possession of his memory ; and all, all, were 

5 



50 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

embalmed in his affections. His audience were col- 
lected from all quarters, and prepared to hail him as a 
seer, declaring the past and opening up the future. I 
That past was full of glories. The warrior might have 
found in it lessons of heroic valor ; the philosopher, of 
wisdom ; and the holy man, of piety. The orator had 
no sectarian views to gratify, no cankering prejudices 
to indulge, no fancied inferences to make from doubtful 
records. He stood among them as an enlightened 
statesman, a lover of his country, that had his whole 
heart ; a country, whose records he held as sacred, 
whose hopes were connected with the best interests of 
man. He was there, as every where else, a friend of 
religion ; but not a religious partizan ; one who believes, 
' that whatever disunites man from God, disunites man 
from man.' ' Let us rejoice,' said the orator, ' that we 
behold this day ; let us be thankful that we have lived 
to see the bright and happy breaking of this auspicious 
morn, which commences the third century of the his- 
tory of New England.' He summoned the highest 
faculties of our nature to connect time and place, to 
look before and after, and hold communion with our 
ancestors and our posterity. He called up the genius 
of the place to bring back and put before them the 
mighty dead, whose graves had first consecrated the 
soil with the hopes of the resurrection and the life to 
come. He sketched the history of the wanderings of 
the pilgrims with a master-hand, and pointed out the 
.difference between them and all other colonies of 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 51 

ancient or modern times ; their steadfast adherence to 
the best principles of civil and religious liberty ; their 
commercial enterprizes ; their determined courage ; 
and their hardy growth, were described with force and 
elegance. The war of independence was remembered, 
and the slave trade attacked, without fearing those who 
might be offended. The religious character of our 
fathers was incorporated in all they did, and all they 
hoped ; and the remembrance of it breathes through 
the whole of this speech. 

There was one subject touched upon in Mr. Web- 
ster's speech, — the law of succession, — that should be 
noticed, for it shows a deep knowledge of the effect 
of our institutions ; and what he then hazarded as 
a conjecture in regard to this law of succession in 
France, has proved an overwhelming truth in a fifth 
part of the time he allowed for the political effect it 
has produced. 

Before Mr. Webster took his seat in Congress, from 
the district of Suffolk, in Massachusetts, the whole 
American people, with a few exceptions, had espoused 
the cause of the Greeks. The shrieks which arose 
from the massacre of Scio had been wafted on every 
wind, and pierced every heart. The interest was deep 
and general. The classical man ran over the history 
of that wonderful people ; their beautiful language, and 
their rich and tasteful literature came all up fresh to 
his recollections, and he was for repaying Greece the 
immeasurable debt of as:es. The alumni of all our 



52 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

literaiy institutions, without an exception^ were for 
Greece. The female heart, ready for generous sym- 
pathies, caught the infection, and assembled in favor of 
Greece. Societies were formed in every town and vil- 
lage to aid this brave people in their mighty struggle 
for freedom. The holy man of the altar, not given to 
enter into secular affairs, opened his sacred book, and 
finding countless texts on which to hang a discourse in 
favor of Christians in bondage, breathed an eloquence, 
the possession of which was almost unknown to him- 
self, v\hich opened the fountains of charity, and caused 
them to flow like the rock of Horeb, ^\ith siveet and 
divine waters. The generous, as usual, gave for the 
suffering Greeks most bountiflilly ; the young child 
who had no definite idea of duty on the subject, hear- ' 
ing the preacher say that the father of the little Greek 
boy they had seen, died in the awful fight, and that his i 
mother fell by the assassin^s dagger, brought his all to 
the contribution-box, and was happy when his shining 
silver was gone, — all gone, — for such a purpose ; and 
the miser struggling between avarice and the sympathy 
he felt for Greece, (and to him any generous sympathy 
was new,) let fall for the Greek the bit of gold he had 
held from every other charity, as with the grasp of I 
death. This is no high-wrought tale ; thousands and 
tens of thousands can bear testimony to this statement, j 
for thev have witnessed such scenes. This was^ not 
ail, — Christian spirits clad with gospel panoply came \ 
forward with new-born zeal, and oftered their services 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 53 

as missionaries, agents, or anything else that would 
benefit the cause. Youthful warriors, fed on the ali- 
ment of ancient patriotism, oiFered their services to gird 
on their sword, to ' sink or swim, Jive or die,'' in the 
cause of fi-eedom and the cross. All hearts yearned 
towards Greece, and every one wished her well, if he 
did not express his wishes. Anacharsis was read with 
new pleasure, and Mitford sought after vnXh avidity, 
and even Gillie's Greece, with all its dulness, was in 
request from the libraries. However prudent the rulers 
of the nation might have felt in regard to committing 
themselves with the Greek revolution, the people had 
no fastidious impressions upon this subject. They ex- 
pressed, as they always will, as long as they enjoy their 
present blessings, their whole soul upon the occasion. 
The tongue of the people may be considered as a 
^ chartered instrument,^ it speaks right on, and is not 
often muzzled nor tied. But even men in high places 
were influenced by public feeling, and Mr, Monroe in 
his message to Congress, made mention of the strug- 
gles of Greece in favor of liberty. On this suggestion, 
Mr. Webster brought forward a resolution for making 
provision by law for defraying the expenses incident to 
the appointment of an agent or commissioner to Greece, 
whenever the president should deem it expedient to 
make such an appointment. 

These generous sentiments were all seen, known, 
and felt by the speaker, as is proved by his short exor- 
dium. 

5* 



54 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

' I am afraid, Mr. Chairman, that, so far as my part in 
this discussion is concerned, those expectations which 
the public excitement existing on the subject, and cer- 
tain associations easily suggested by it, have conspired 
to raise, may be disappointed. An occasion which calls 
the attention to a spot, so distinguished, so connected 
with interesting recollections, as Greece, may naturally 
create something of warmth and enthusiasm. In a grave, 
political discussion, however, it is necessary that that 
feeling should be chastised. I shall endeavor properly 
to repress it, although it is impossible that it should be 
altogether extinguished. We must, indeed, fly beyond 
the civilized world, we must pass the dominion of law, 
and the boundaries of knowledge ; we must, more espe- 
cially, withdraw ourselves from this place, and the scenes 
and objects which here surround us, if we would sepa- 
rate ourselves, entirely, from the influence of all those 
memorials of herself which ancient Greece has transmit- 
ted for the admiration and the benefit of mankind. This 
free form of government, this popular assembly, the com- 
mon council, held for the common good, where have we 
contemplated its earliest models ? This practice of free 
debate, and public discussion, the contest of mind with 
mind, and that popular eloquence, which, if it were now 
here, on a subject like this, would move the stones of the 
capitol, — whose was the language in which all these 
were first exhibited ? Even the edifice in which we as- 
semble, these proportioned columns, this ornamented 
architecture, all remind us that Greece has existed, and 
that we, like the rest of mankind, are greatly her debtors. 
But I have not introduced this motion in the vain hope 
of discharging anything of this accumulated debt of cen- 
turies. I have not acted upon the expectation, that we, 
who have inherited this obligation from our ancestors, 
should now attempt to pay it to those who may seem to 
have inherited, from their ancestors, a right to receive 
payment. My object is nearer and more immediate. I 
wish to take occasion of the struggle of an interesting 
and gallant people, in the cause of liberty and Chris- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 55 

tiapity, to draw the attention of the House to the circum- 
stances which have accompanied that struggle, and to 
the principles which appear to have governed the con- 
duct of the great States of Europe in regard to it ; and 
to the effects and consequences of these principles upon 
the independence of nations, and especially upon the 
institutions of free Governments. What I have to say of 
Greece, therefore, concerns the modern, not the ancient; 
the living, and not the dead. It regards her, not as she 
exists in history, triumphant over time, and tyranny, and 
ignorance ; but as she now is, contending, against fear- 
ful odds, for being, and for the common privilege of hu- 
man nature.' 

He spends but little time on these things, however 
congenial and lovely they may be to him. He stops 
not to view the groves of the academy, the fountains of 
inspiration, nor the mountams where rang the songs of 
the never-dying Muse. Neither the wisdom of Soc- 
rates, nor the justice of the Areopagus, nor even the 
eloquence of Pericles, or Demosthenes, detain him for 
a moment. He weighs his o\\ti country in the balance 
of political justice, and considers what she ought to do 
in the cause of freedom and of man. He approves of 
lier peaceful policy, and at the same tmie of her inde- 
pendence in speaking her mind upon all questions hav- 
ing any bearing on the great principles on which her 
government is founded. 'We are placed,' said he, 
« by our good fortune, and the wisdom and valor of our 
ancestors, in a condition in which we can act no obscure 
part ; be it for honor, he it for dishonor, whatever we 
do, is not likely to escape the observation of the world.' 
The speaker boldly declares the nature of our Govern- 



56 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

ment and delineates her peculiar features, and stated 
openly that she can take but one side in such a contest, 
without abandoning, which she is not likely to do, her 
fundamental pnnciples. He then brings up the Holy 
Alliance, and shows beyond a question, that the prin- 
ciples laid down by them, as far as they were devel- 
oped, were not favorable to the rights of man. They 
still held to the divnne rights of kings, and all the alle- 
viation to be expected by the people must be consid- 
ered gifts from them, not the rightful claims of their 
subjects. ' While the teachers of Laybach give the 
rule, there will be no law but the law of the strongest.' 
This law was promulgated to the world in a circular, 
dated 1821. He inquires what interest we have in re- 
sisting the doctrines of the Holy Alliance. 

' It may now be required of me to show what interest 
toe have, in resisting this new system. What is it to us, 
it may be asked, upon what principles, or what pretences, 
the European governments assert a right of interfering 
in the affairs of their neighbors ? The thunder, it 
may be said, rolls at a distance. The wide Atlantic is 
between us and danger ; and, however others may suf- 
fer, we shall remain safe. 

' I think it a sufficient answer to this, to say, that we 
are one of the nations ; that we have an interest, there- 
fore, in the preservation of that system of national law 
and national intercourse, which has heretofore subsisted, 
so beneficially for all. Our system of government, it 
should also be remembered, is, throughout, founded on 
principles utterly hostile to the new code ; and, if we re- 
main undisturbed by its operation, we shall owe our se- 
curity, either to our situation or our spirit. The enter- 
prising character of the age, our own active commercial 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 57 

spirit, the great increase which has taken place in the 
intercourse between civihzed and commercial States, 
have necessarily connected us with the nations of the 
earth, and given us a high concern in the preservation of 
those salutary principles, upon which that intercourse is 
founded. We have as clear an interest in international 
law, as individuals have in the laws of society. 

' But, apart from the soundness of the policy, on the 
ground of direct interest, we have, sir, a duty, connected 
with this subject, which I trust we are willing to per- 
form. What do tve not owe to the cause of civil and re- 
ligious liberty ? to the principle of lawful resistance % to 
the principle that society has a right to partake in its 
own government 1 As the leading republic of the world, 
living and breathing in these principles, and advanced, 
by their operation, with unequalled rapidity in our ca- 
reer, shall we give our consent to bring them into disre- 
pute and disgrace 1 It is neither ostentation nor boasting 
to say, that there lie before this country, in immediate 
prospect, a great extent and height of power. We are 
borne along towards this without eifort, and not always 
even with a full knowledge of the rapidity of our own 
motion. Circumstances which never combined before, 
have co-operated in our favor, and a mighty current is 
setting us forward, which we could not resist, even if we 
would, and which, while we would stop to make an ob- 
servation, and lake the sun, has set us, at the end of the 
operation, far in advance of the place vyhere we com- 
menced it. Does it not become us, then, is it not a duty 
imposed on us, to give our weight to the side of liberty 
and justice — to let mankind know that we are not tired 
of our own institutions — and to protest against the as- 
serted power of altering, at pleasure, the law of the civil- 
ized world ? 

' But, whatever we do, in this respect, it becomes us 
to do upon clear and consistent principles. There is an 
important topic in the Message, to which I have yet 
hardly alluded. I mean the rumored combination of the 
European continental sovereigns, against the new estab- 



58 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

lished free States of South America. Whatever position 
this Government may take on that subject, I trust it will 
be one which can be defended, on known and acknowl- 
eged grounds of right. The near approach, or the re- 
mote distance of danger, may affect policy, but cannot 
change principle. The same reason that would author- 
ise us to protest against unwarrantable combinations to 
interfere between Spain and her former colonies, would 
authorise us equally to protest, if the same combination 
were directed against the smallest State in Europe, al- 
though our duty to ourselves, our policy, and wisdom, 
might indicate very different courses, as fit to be pursued 
by us in the two cases. We shall not, I trust, act upon 
the notion of dividing the world with the Holy Alliance, 
and complain of nothing done by them in their hemis- 
phere, if they will not interfere with ours. At least this 
would not be such a course of policy as I could recom- 
mend or support. We have not offended, and, I hope, 
we do not intend to offend, in regard to South America, 
against any principle of national independence or of pub- 
lic law. We have done nothing, we shall do nothing, 
that we need to hush up or to compromise, by forbearing 
to express our sympathy for the cause of the Greeks, or 
our opinion of the course which other Governments have 
adopted in regard to them.' 

The speaker gives a condensed account of the state 
of Greece, as she then was in the early part of the late 
struggle. The description is forcibly drawn, not col- 
ored by the imagination, or spread out into rhetorical 
beauties for display. It is truth, such as is well under- 
stood by all men who think, and such as is or will be 
felt by all nations who regai-d their own rights. 

' I shall not detain the Committee, Sir, by laying be- 
fore it any statistical, geographical, or commercial ac- 
count of Greece. I have no knowledge on these subjects, 






LIFE OF WEBSTER. 59 



which is not common to all. It is universally admitted, 
that, within the last thirty or forty years, the condition of 
Greece has been greatly improved. Her marine is at 
present respectable, containing the best sailors in the 
Mediterranean, better even, in that sea, than our own, 
as more accustomed to the long quarantines, and other 
regulations which prevail in its ports. The number of 
her seamen has been estimated as high as 50,000, but I 
suppose that estimate must be much too large. They 
have probably 150,000 tons of shipping. It is not easy 
to state an accurate account of Grecian population. The 
Turkish Government does not trouble itself with any of 
the calculations of political economy, and there has never 
been such a thing as an accurate census, probably, in 
any part of the Turkish empire. In the absence of all 
official information, private opinions widely differ. By 
the tables which have been communicated, it would 
seem that there are 2,400,000 Greeks in Greece proper 
and the islands ; an amount, as I am inclined to think, 
somewhat overrated. There are, probably, in the whole 
of European Turkey, 5,000,000 Greeks, and 2,000,000 
more in the Asiatic dominions of that power. The moral 
and intellectual progress of this numerous population, 
under the horrible oppression which crushes it, has been 
such as may well excite regard. Slaves, under barba- 
rous masters, the Greeks have still aspired after the 
blessings of knowledge and civilisation. Before the 
breaking out of the present revolution, they had estab- 
lished schools, and colleges, and libraries, and the press. 
Wherever, as in Scio, owing to particular circumstances, 
the weight of oppression was mitigated, the natural vi- 
vacity of the Greeks, and their aptitude for the arts, were 
discovered. Though certainly not on an equality with 
the civilised and Christian States of Europe, — and how is 
it possible under such oppression as they endured that 
they should be 1 they yet furnished a striking contrast 
with their Tartar masters. It has been well said, that it 
is not easy to form a just conception of the nature of the 
despotism exercised over them. Conquest and subjuga- 



60 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

tion, as known among European States, are inadequate 
modes of expression by which to denote the dominion of 
the Turks. A conquest, in the civilised world, is gene^ 
rally no more than an acquisition of a new dominion to 
the conquering country. It does not imply a never-end- ^ 
ing bondage imposed upon the conquered, a perpetual 
mark, and opprobrious distinction between them and 
their masters ; a bitter and unending persecution of their 
religion ; an habitual violation of their rights of person 
and property, and the unrestrained indulgence towards 
them, of every passion which belongs to the character of 
a barbarous soldiery. Yet such is the state of Greece. 
The Ottoman power over them, obtained originally by 
the sword, is constantly preserved by the same means. 
Wherever it exists, it is a mere military power. The 
religious and civil code of the State, being both fixed in 
the Alcoran, and equally the object of an ignorant and 
furious faith, have been found equally incapable ofi 
change. '* The Turk," it has been said, " has been 
encamped in Europe for four centuries." He has hardly 
any more participation in European manners, knowledge^ 
and arts, than when he crossed the Bosphorus. But this 
is not the worst of it. The power of the empire is 
fallen into anarchy, and as the principle which belongs 
to the head belongs also to the parts, there are as many 
despots as there are pachas, beys, and visiers. Wars 
are almost perpetual between the sultan and some re- 
bellious governor of a province ; and in the conflict of 
these despotisms, the people are necessarily ground be- 
tween the upper and the nether millstone. In short, the 
Christian subjects of the Sublime Porte, feel daily all the 
miseries which flow from despotism, from anarchy, from 
slavery, and from religious persecution. If anything yet 
remains to heighten such a picture, let it be added, that 
every office in the Government is not only actually, but 
professedly venal ; — the pachalics, the visierites, the ca- 
diships, and whatsoever other denomination may denote 
the depositary of power. In the whole world, sir, there 
is no such oppression felt, as by the Christian Greeks. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 61 

111 various parts of India, to be sure, the government is 
bad enough^ but then it is the government of barbarians 
over barbarians, and the feeling of oppression is, of 
-course, not so keen. There the oppressed are perhaps 
not better than their oppressors; but in the case of 
Greece, there are millions of Christian men, not without 
knowledge, not without refinement, not without a strong 
thirst for all the pleasures of civiiised life, trampled into 
the very earth, century after century, by a pillaging, 
savage, relentless soldiery. Sir, the case is unique. 
There exists, and has existed, nothing like it. The 
world has no such misery to show ; there is no case in 
which Christian communities can be called upon, with 
such emphasis of appeal.' 

Whoever reads the speech carefully, will find that it 
contains a iull avowal of Mr. Webster's opinions on 
our duties as a great republic, m all those important 
questions which are now agitating the world. His 
leading maxims are, — Watch all the movements of 
nations ; examine their conduct with impartiality and 
justice ; speak of them with candor, but with freedom, 
and prepare to act with magnanimity and good faith. 

From the halls of Congress, Mr. Webster passes 
with ease and dignity to any place or cause, when man 
is to be roused, enlightened, or directed and pleased. 
As our country increases in age and population, every 
circumstance of our history becomes more a matter of 
importance to us, and will be more regarded as we 
journey onward in the career of national distinction. 

The battle of Bunker Hill was, from the day it was 
fought, a fond theme for our people to dwell upon. It 
was the first fair test of national bravery in the revolu- 
6 



62 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

tionary contest ; the first regular battle in which Brit- 
ons and the sons of Britons met. It was strongly 
marked with true national characteristics, and was the 
most distinguished of our battles. A half century was 
now closing on the nation since that memorable period. 
The day could not pass unnoticed by those who valued 
their birth-rights. The people of New-England had, 
a short time before, formed a society, to be called The 
BunJcer Hill Association, ' for the purpose of rearing 
some honorable and durable monument to the memory 
of the early friends of American Independence.' The 
close of the fiftieth year was fixed upon to lay the 
corner-stone of this monument. Mr. Webster was se-^ 
lected as the orator on this occasion by the directors 
of the Association ; in fact, it was not their selection 
alone, for the eyes of the whole people were turned 
upon him as the man who was to speak to them of by- 
gone times, long before the directors had met to name 
him. Great preparations were made for the purpose 
of commemorating the event, and of beginning the 
monument, and the whole community, far and wide, 
were invited to attend. The day previous, the me- 
tropolis of New-England was crowded to overflowing. 
The morning sun of the 17th of June, 1825, rose as 
lovely as on the day of his birth. The survivors of 
the battle of the ]7th of June, 1775, were invited by| 
the Legislature of Massachusetts, to attend the cere- 
monies at the expense of the Commonwealth. About 
fifty of them were found among the living, able to 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 63 

come ; these, with other revolutionary heroes, made 
part of the wonders of the day. The days of their 
deeds and their marchings had passed ; and they were 
• borne to the field in open carriages, as at an ovation in 
triumphal cars. These cars were driven not by pro- 
fessional whips, but by young gentlemen who volun- 
teered their services for that honor. The effect was 
scenic. These hoary-headed warriors seemed glorified 
spectres from some field of battle, over which flowers 
had grown, and harvests had been reaped, until the 
memory of blood had been forgotten, and who had 
come up to say, ' We have been sufficiently avenged ; 
let harmony and peace prevail among men.' 

One mass of people filled the streets in regular pro- 
cession for nearly two miles in extent. As they 
passed, the houses were crowded with spectators. 
Every resting-place, window, and battlement, were 
lull of youth and beauty, looking on ; delighted infancy 
inquired what it all meant ; and the lack-lustre eye of 
age was lighted up with new fires for that hour's gaze. 
In this procession, which was made up of the valuable 
portion of the land, — the virtuous, the conspicuous, 
and the renowned, was Lafayette, then the nation's 
guest ; he, too, had come to join in the patriotic com- 
memoration, — in the jubilee of liberty. Tiie corner- 
stone now laid, the people being seated in the amphi- 
theatre which nature had prepared for them, and to 
which art had only added a few benches ; after a 
slight bustling for seats, all was still ; when a venerable 



64 I*IFE OF WEBSTER, 

fbmi arose* to implore the blessings of Heaven on the 
day, the deed, and the orator. He, toOj seemed to 
have come from the dead. He was a beins; of another 
age, at least. He had the snow of nearly fourscore ; 
winters upon his head ; his voice, though changed^ 
M as not broken by age ; he was heard and accom- | 
panied by thousands in his- devotions.. There is some<r | 
thing indesci'ibably venerable in a holy man, who has 
long officiated at the altar of the Most High. Tliere 
was a divine glow in that age-stricken face that 
showed, that the moral as well ?s national grandeur of, 
the scene was in his raind ; and as he closed his^ 
prayer with all honor and glory to God, his counte- j 
nance unequivocally spoke the language of Simeon of 
old, ' Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for 
mine eyes have seen thy salvation.' 

The speaker next was seen ; all eyes were turned 
upon him, and breathless attention was the si2;aal for 
his first accent. History has no parallel for this 
scene. 

* In the open air, exposed to sun and winds, stood an 
orator ripe with the thoughts of manhood, before alJ the 
impressions and the glow of early days had gone ; 
myriads of listeners were around him ; heroes were 
clustering near him, among them the representatives of 
other hemispheres ; holy men,, who were just entering 
eternity, were ready to implore a blessing, and depart ; 
the bones of friends and enemies were shaking in their 
graves beneath the feet of new and old generations, and 
passing time was announcing that half a century had 

*■ The Rev. Joseph Thaxter, of Edgarton. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 65 

elapsed since the roar of battle had broke over the 
sacred ground. The corner-stone of a time-defying 
monument was then resting at his feet, and a hundred 
thousand bosoms in his sight were swelling and heaving 
with patriotism and republican pride. How sublime the 
scene ! What a moment for " thoughts that breathe and 
words that hum /" ' 

All were satisfied, — all delighted. Yet there was 
nothing but good sense running through all he said ; 
no artificial pauses were made to elicit the plaudits of 
a larger audience than any orator in this country ever 
before addressed He had studied no graceful ges- 
tures for the occasion. His voice was clear and pow- 
erful, and heard far beyond the usual compass of the 
human voice. He spoke as he felt, with deliberate 
energy of thought and word. His whole soul w^as in 
that day's glory. Every topic that he touched was 
directly applicable to his subject ; there were none of 
the wanderings of genius in his speech ; all was com- 
pact, intense, and connected. The importance of the 
institution, its great objects, and its harmony, with all 
the feelings of patriotism were dwelt upon The prin- 
ciples of the Revolution received new interest from his 
eloquence. The mighty dead of the Revolution were 
eulogised, and the survivors addressed with aifection 
and reverence. They had never anticipated such a 
day. Lafayette was full of the ' grand spectacle,' and 
declared, that he had never before beheld a concourse so 
intelligent and so happy. Such impressions may slum- 
ber, but can never die. They will be called up by 
6* 



66 LIFE OF WEBSIXR. 

memory, and transmitted with fresh laurels to re- 
motest time, 

Mr. Webster had not often made his appearance in 
Faneuil Hall on those occasionSj which call forth the 
unj)remeditated speeches of those who come to ani- 
mate the voters before the poles are opened. He had 
not tried or wasted his strength on these useful, but 
ephemeral efforts in the cause of every ordinary elec- 
tion. He admired the old cradle of liberty, but it was 
the place for young men to try their oratorical powers, 
and he had passed the period of all such struggles ; 
yet, previous to the election of April, 1825, in that 
State, when no small degree of confusion seemed to be 
found in the ranks of his friends, he w^as induced to 
come forward to say a few words in favor of union. 
He was awkwardly situated ; some of his friends were 
very urgent for him to appear, as he might do much 
good in bringing about harmony. He received notes 
from some other friends pressing him to be there with- 
out fail ; from otliers, again, urging him to stay at 
home. One, couched in Calphurnia's words, ' Go not 
forth to-day ;' and this from one, too, who loved him 
well, and one w^ho had as many fears for the loss of 
his popularity as the fond wife had for Caesar's life ; 
nevertheless, his popularity was not in quite so much 
jeopardy as the great Roman's life. He did go forth, 
and made a speech, which, if it did not unite all 
parties, went no small way to accomphsh it ; at all 
events, it increased tlie public confidence in his politi- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 6T 

cal course. These sudden, occasional speeches, called 
out by unforeseen circumstances, show a man's com- 
mon course of thinking, and his fitness for that debate, 
which a statesman is often forced into without much 
preparation. The topics he touched upon were well 
chosen, and as one of those little gems of eloquence, 
the speech is given : — 

' Mr. Webster said, he was quite unaccustomed to ap- 
pear in that place ; having, on no occasion, addressed 
his fellow citizens there, either to recommend or to op- 
pose the support of any candidates for public office. He 
had long been of opinion, that to preserve the distinc- 
tion, and the hostility of political parties, was not con- 
sistent with the highest degree of public good. At the 
same time he did not find fault with the conduct, nor 
question the motives, of those who thought otherwise. 
But, entertaining this opinion, he had abstained from at- 
tending on those occasions, in which the merits of pub- 
lic men, and of candidates for office, were discussed, 
necessarily, with more or less reference to party attach- 
ment, and party organization. 

* The present was a different occasion. The senti- 
ment which had called this meeting together, was a 
sentiment of union and conciliation ; a sentiment so 
congenial to his own feelings, and to his opinion of the 
public interest, that he could not resist the inclination to 
be present, and to express his entire and hearty appro- 
bation. 

' He should forbear, Mr. W. said, from all remarks 
upon the particular names which had been recommended 
by the committee. They had been selected, he must 
presume, fairly, and with due consideration, by those 
who were appointed for that purpose. In cases of this 
sort every one cannot expect to find everything precisely 
as he might wish it ; but those who concurred in the 
general sentiment would naturally allow that sentiment 
to prevail, as far as possible, over particular objections. 



68 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

* On the general question he would make a few re- 
marks, begging the indulgence of the meeting, if he 
should say anything which might with more propriety 
proceed from others. 

* He hardly conceived how well disposed and intelli- 
gent minds could differ, as to the question, whether 
party contest, and party strife, organized, systematic, 
and continued, were of themselves desirable ingredients 
in the composition of society. Difference of opinion, on 
political subjects, honorable competition, and emulous 
rivalry, may, indeed, be useful. But these are very 
different things from organized and systematic party 
combinations. He admitted, even, that party associa- 
tions were sometimes unavoidable, and perhaps neces- 
sary, to the accomplishment of other ends and purposes. 
But this did not prove that, of themselves, they were 
good ; or that they should be continued and preserved 
for their own sake, when there had ceased to be any 
object to be effected by them. 

* But there were those who supposed, that whether po- 
litical party distinctions were, or were not, useful, it was 
impossible to abolish them. Now he thought, on the 
contrary, that under present circumstances, it was quite 
impossible to continue them. New parties, indeed, 
might arise, growing out of new events, or new ques- 
tions ; but as to those old parties, which had sprung 
from controversies now no longer pending, or from feel- 
ings, which time and other causes had now changed, or 
greatly allayed, he did not believe that they could long 
remain. Efforts, indeed, made to that end, with zeal 
and perseverance, might delay their extinction, but, he 
thought, could not prevent it. There was nothing to 
keep alive these distinctions, in the interests and objects 
which now engage society. New questions and new 
objects arise, having no connexion with the subjects of 
past controversies, and present interest overcomes or 
absorbs the recollection of former controversies. All 
that are united on these existing questions, and present 
interests, are not likely to weaken their efforts to pro- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 69 

mote them by angry reflections on past diiferences. If 
there were nothing, in things, to divide about, he 
thought the people not likely to maintain systematic con- 
troversies about men. They have no interest in so 
doing. Associations formed to support principles, may 
be called parties ; but if they have no bond of union but 
adherence to particular men they become factions. 

' The people, in his opinion, were at present grateful io 
all parties, for whatever of good they had accomplished, 
and indulgent to all for whatever of error they had 
committed ; and, with these feelings, were now mainly 
intent on the great objects which affected their present 
interests. There might be exceptions to this remark ; 
he was afraid there were ; but, nevertheless, such ap- 
peared to him to be the general feeling in the country. 
It was natural that some prejudices should remain longer 
than their causes, as the waves lash the shore, for a 
time, after the storm has subsided ; but the tendency of 
the elements was to repose. Monopolies of all sorts 
were getting out of fashion, they were yielding to liberal 
ideas, and to the obvious justice and expediency of fair 
competition. 

' An administration of the general government, which 
had been, in general, highly satisfactory to the country, 
had now closed. He was not aware that it could with 
propriety be said that that administration had been 
either supported, or opposed by any party associations, 
or on any party principles. Certain it was, that as far 
as there had been any organized opposition to the ad- 
ministration, it had had nothing to do with former 
parties. A new administration had now commenced, 
and he need hardly say that the most liberal and concili- 
atory principles had been avowed. It could not be 
doubted, that it would conform to those principles. 
Thus far, he believed, its course had given general sat- 
isfaction. After what they all had seen, in relation to 
the gentlemen holding the highest appointment in the 
Executive Department, under tlie President, he would 
take this opportunity to say, that having been a member 



70 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

of the House of Representatives for six years, during the 
far greater part of which time Mr. Clay had presided in 
that House, he was most happy in being able, in a 
manner less formal than by concurring in the usual vote 
of thanks, to express his own opinion of his liberality, 
independence, and honorable feeling. And he would 
take this occasion also, to add, if his opinion could be of 
any value in such a case, that he thought nothing more 
unfounded than that that gentleman owed his present 
situation to any unworthy compromise or arrangement 
whatever. He owed it to his talent, to his prominent 
standing in the community, to his course of public ser- 
vice, not now a short one, and to the high estimation in 
which he stands with that part of the country to which 
he belongs. 

* Remarks, Mr. Webster proceeded to say, had been 
made from the chair, very kind and partial, as to the 
manner in which he had discharged the duties which he 
owed to his constituents, in the House of Representa- 
tives. He wished to say, that if he had been able to 
render any, the humblest services, either to the public 
or his constituents, in that place, it was owing wholly to 
the liberal manner in which his efforts there had been 
received. 

' Having alluded to the Inaugural Address, he did not 
mean, in the slightest degree, to detract from its merits, 
when he now said, that in his opinion, if either of the 
other candidates had succeeded in the election, he also 
would have adopted a liberal course of policy. He had 
no reason to believe that the sentiments of either of 
those gentlemen were, in this respect, narrow or con- 
tracted. He fully believed the contrary, in regard to 
both of them ; but if they had been otherwise, he thought 
still, that expediency or necessity, would have controlled 
their inclinations. 

' 1 forbear, said Mr. W., from pursuing these remarks 
farther. I repeat, that I do not complain of those who 
have hitherto thought, or who still think, that party or- 
ganization is necessary to the public good. I do not 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 71 

question their motives ; and I wish to be tolerant even 
to those who think that toleration ought not to be in- 
dulged. 

* It is said, sir, that prosperity sometimes hardens the 
heart. Perhaps, also, it may sometimes have a contrary 
effect, and elevate and liberalize the feelings. If this 
can ever be the result of such a cause, there is cer- 
tainly in the present condition of the country enough 
to inspire the most grateful and the kindest feelings. 
We have a common stock both of happiness and of 
distinction, of which we are all entitled as citizens of the 
country to partake. We may all rejoice in the general 
prosperity, in the peace and security which we enjoy, 
and in the brilliant success which has thus far attended 
our republican institutions. These are circumstances, 
which may well excite in us all a noble pride. Our 
civil and political institutions, while they answer for us 
all the great ends designed by them, furnish at the same 
time an example to others, and diffuse blessings beyond 
our own limits. In whatever part of the globe men are 
found contending for political liberty, they look to the 
United States with a feeling of brotherhood, and put 
forth a claim of kindred. The South American States, 
especially, exhibit a most interesting spectacle. Let the 
great men who formed our constitutions of government, 
who still survive, and let the children of those who have 
gone to their graves console themselves with the reflec- 
tion, that whether they have risen or fallen in the little 
contests of party, they have not only established the 
liberty and happiness of their own native land, but have 
conferred blessings beyond their own country, and be- 
yond their own thoughts, on millions of men, and on 
successions of generations. Under the influence of 
these institutions, received and adopted in principle, 
from our example, the whole southern continent has 
shaken off its colonial subjection. A new world, filled 
with fresh and interesting nations, has risen to our sight. 
America seems again discovered ; not to geography, but 
to commerce, to social intercourse, to intelligence, to 



72 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 



civilization, and to liberty. Fifty years ago, some of 
those who now hear me, and the fathers of many others, 
listened in this place, to those mighty masters, Otis and 
Adams. When they then uttered the spirit-stirring 
sounds of Independence and Liberty, there was not a 
foot of land on the continent inhabited by civilized man, 
that did not acknowledge the dominion of European 
power. Thank God, at this moment, from us to the 
south pole, and from sea to sea, there is hardly a foot 
that does. 

' And, sir, when these States, thus newly disenthralled 
and emancipated, assume the tone, and bear the port of 
mdependence, what language, and what ideas do we 
find associated, with their new acquired liberty ? They 
speak, sir, of Constitutions, of Declarations of Rights, of 
the Liberty of the Press, of a Congress, and of Repre- 
sentative Government. Where, sir, did they learn 
these ? And when they have applied to their great 
leader, and the founder of their States, the language of 

praise and commendation, till they have exhausted Tt, 

when unsatisfied gratitude can express itself no other- 
wise, do they not call him their Washington ? Sir, the 
Spirit of Continental Independence, the Genius of Amer- 
ican Liberty, which in earlier times tried her infant 
voice m the halls and on the hills of New England, 
utters It now, with power that seems to wake the dead 
on the plains of Mexico, and along the sides of the 
Andes. 

" Her path, where'er the Goddess roves, 

Glory pursues, and generous shame. 

The unconquerable mind, and Freedom's holy flame." 

'There is one other point of view, sir, in regard to 
which I will say a few words, though, perhaps, at some 
hazard of misinterpretation. 

/ In the wonderful spirit of improvement and enter- 
prise which animates the country, we may be assured 
that each quarter will naturally exert its power in favor 
ot objects m which it is interested. This is natural and 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 73 

unavoidable. Each portion, therefore, will use its best 
means. If the West feels a strong interest in clearino- 
the navigation of its mighty streams, and opening roads 
through its vast forests ; if the South is equally zealous 
to push the production and augment the prices of its 
great staples, it is reasonable to expect, that these objects 
will be pursued by the best means which offer. And it 
may, therefore, well deserve consideration, whether the 
commercial, and navigating, and manufacturing interests 
of the North do not call on us to aid and support 
them, by united counsels, and united efforts. But I 
abstain from enlarging on this topic. Let me rather say, 
sir, that in regard to the whole country, a new era has 
arisen. In a time of peace, the proper pursuits of peace 
engage society with a degree of enterprise, and an in- 
tenseness of application, heretofore unknown. New 
objects are opening, and new resources developed on 
every side. We tread on a broader theatre : and if 
instead of acting our parts, according to the novelty and 
importance of the scene, we waste our strength in 
mutual crimination and recrimination about the past, we 
shall resemble those navigators, who having escaped 
from some crooked and narrow river to the sea, now 
that the whole ocean is before them, should, neverthe- 
less, occupy themselves with the differences which hap- 
pened as they passed along among the rocks and the 
shallows, instead of opening their eyes to the wide hori- 
zon around them, spreading their sail to the propitious 
gale that woos it, raising their quadrant to the sun, and 
grasping the helm, with the conscious hand of a master. 

Tlie inhabitants of Boston, not satisfied with the 
labors Mr. Webster had already performed for the in- 
struction and gratification of the public, claimed his 
services again, as a eulogist on Adams and Jelierson. 
after their extraordinary exit from this life, on the 4ih 
of July, 18'26. It was not strange tliat old men should 
7 



74 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

clie. Nature required the repose of the grave after 
such active and eventful Hves. The country was 
daily expecting to hear that they were sinking into the 
tomb. They had filled up a great measure of duty ; 
but that it should be so decreed that both should be 
called to another world on the nation's political birth- 
day — called as it were by the same angel of death on 
the same errand to this world, was most wonderfld. 
At this event the nation felt but one sentiment — of 
respect and affection ; and if the expression may be , 
allowed, but one heart-swelling emotion of wonder, j 
admiration, and satisfaction, that they had gone together 
from this world of care and anxiety. Orations, ser- 
mons, elegies and speeches, were made from one end of '. 
the country to the other. Party spirit was sacrificed, at 
once, at the shrine of patriotism ; and men of all political 
creeds vied with each other in commemorating the 
talents, services, and virtues of each. The failings 
of both were forgotten, and their deeds were brought i 
forward side by side, and commented upon, as they 
will be when a century has passed ov^er us as a nation. 
There was none of that weakness in this, which is often j 
discovered in epitaphs or obituaries from admiring ^ 
friendship, or relenting enmity. The head, as w^ell as 1 
the heart, was concerned In the feelings and proceedings 
of the people. Boston is never behind her sister cities 
in celebrating any joyous event, or in commemorating v 
anything national, or glorious, or in paying honors to j 
the illustrious dead. The mayor and aldermen ap- j 






LIFE OF WEBSTER. 75 

pointed the second day of August following the fourth 
of July 1826, to notice the death of these distinguished 
statesmen. This day was fixed upon because on it, 
following the fourth of July, 1776, the members of the 
Continental Congress, who, from absence or other 
causes had not put their names to the immortal instru- 
ment, the Declaration of Independence, now as- 
sembled to put the finishing hand to it. On this occa- 
sion, the good people of Boston were more than usually 
enthusiastic, if that were possible, and felt a determina- 
tion to show their respect for the illustrious dead, with 
no ordinary demonstrations of funeral insignia. Faneuil 
Hall was shrouded in mourning — the business of the 
city was suspended ; the colors of the shipping were 
hoisted half mast, and the bells tolled a solemn peal at 
appointed hours of the day. Several hours before the 
ceremonies commenced, the immense galleries of the 
old cradle of liberty were crowded with ladies, waiting 
for the orator to appear. The procession was formed 
at the State House, nearly half a mile from the Hall ; 
and consisted of a very great number of the most re- 
spectable inhabitants of the metropolis ; not more than 
a tenth of whom could expect to find accommodation 
for hearing the oration. As the procession passed, the 
windows and balconies were crowded with citizens with 
solemn faces, anxious to witness any portion of the 
honors the people were paying to the mighty dead. 
The deceased patriots had lived to 

' Read their history in a nation's eyes ;' 



76 LIFE OF WEBSTER, 

and now that nation, in tliis, and in olhev cities 
was putting; the seal upon their fame by those funeral 
rites which are perfonned by the people only for those 
they loved. Tlie body of Trajan was not so much the 
object of solemn cuiiosity as was Pliny's eulogy^ in the 
Senate, upon the virtues of the great Roman. In joy 
and in grief, there often is a feeling so intense that the 
mind cannot find repose until the heart has discharged 
itself in words. Eveiy one was so desirous of getting a 
look at the speaker, that the populace crowded upon one 
another to the great danger of life, or limbs. Men, 
who were accustomed to see the orator almost daily, 
were just as eager to catch a glimpse of him as if they 
now l>eheld him for tlie fkst time. Men love to take 
their eyes jfi'om wandering over the wide expanse that 
heaven has suffered us to view, and direct them to one 
object, if such an object is^ capable of filling the mind. 
As the crowd thickened and the difficulties of a clear 
view increased, the exertions to see becoine more fierce. 
Many partook of the enthusiasm, who never could give 
a reason for it. The world has not much changed from 
its earliest a2;es. What Rome felt when her 2:reai 
nder died,, other cities feel now at the exit of their great 
men ; and the same anxiety to see and hear tb.ose wha 
praise them still continues: 

'I have seen 
The dumb men thronsf to see him, and the blind 
To hear him speak : the matrons fiung tl^eir gloves^ 
liadies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs^ 
Upon him as he passed : The nobles bended. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 77 

As to Jove's statue ; and the commons made 

A shower and thunder, with their caps and shouts : 

I never saw the like.' Coriolands. 

The subject was one abounding in incident and full 
of interest. It stretched through a long measure of 
history, and was connected with the minute and the 
general affairs of the Republic. To do justice to the 
lives of both and to their country, during this period, 
would require numerous volumes of biography and 
history. The task was to condense this mass of matter 
to the compass of a two hours' speech. The bio- 
graphical sketches of the two great patriots are graphic, 
spirited, succinct, and stamped with the strictest ad- 
herence to plain matter of fact. 

Many of the orators and statesmen of the present 
day in our country affect to think but little of classical 
learning, and, relying on natural talents, most egre- 
giously underrate the influences and the value of 
letters. This, however, is owing to their ignorance of 
the treasures of antiquity. It is natural, for who can 
estimate properly what he does not, in the slightest 
degree, understand ? Mr. Webster has given us his own 
view of the subject in this oration ; and this is one on 
which he should be heard, in particular, for his has 
been a business rather than a classical life ; and he can 
justly appreciate the effect of any portion of clas^sical 
literature. 

' Literature sometimes, and pretensions to it much 
oftener, disgusts, by appearing to hang loosely on the 



78 LIFE OF WEBSTER, 

character, like something foreign or extraneous, not z. \ 
part, but an ill-adjusted appendage ; or by seeming to 
overload and weigh it down, by its unsightly bulk, like 
the productions of bad taste in architecture, where there 
is massy and cumbrous ornament, without strength or 
solidity of column. This has exposed learning, and 
especially classical learning, to reproach. Men have 
seen that it might exist, without mental superiority, 
without vigor, without good taste, and without utility. 
But, in such cases, classical learning has only not in- 
spired natural talent ; or, at most, it has but made 
oriorinal feebleness of intellect, and natural bluntness of 
perception, something more conspicuous. The question, 
after all, if it be a question, is, whether literature, ancient 
as well as modern, does not assist a good understanding, 
improve natural good taste, add polished armor to native 
strength, and render its possessor, not only more capable 
of deriving private happiness from contemplation and 
reflection, but more accomplished, also, for action, in 
the affairs of life, and especially for public action. Those 
whose memories we now honor, were learned men ; 
but their learning was kept in its proper place, and made 
subservient to the uses and objects of life. They were 
scholars not common, nor superficial ; but their scholar- 
ship was so in keeping with their character, so blended 
and inwrought, that careless observers, or bad judges, 
not seeing an ostentatious display of it, might infer that 
it did not exist ; forgetting, or not knowing, that classical 
learning, in men who act in conspicuous public stations, 
perform duties which exercise the faculty of writing, or 
address popular, deliberative, or judicial bodies, is often 
felt, where it is little seen, and sometimes felt more ef- 
fectually, because it is not seen at all.' 

Among the gifts which Mr. Adams had from nature, 
and which were cultivated by close ap})Iication to 
studies and duties was that of a strong voice and a 
most powerful imagination, united to a retentive mem- 



LIFE OF Vv'EBSTER. 79 

oiy, which are among the j3rincipal ingredients in 
making an orator. His eloquence was admired in his 
day, as full of strength, nature, fire, and classical learn- 
ing. He came upon the question with all the energy 
of his feelings ; he turned it to every light, and probed 
it to the very quick. He was well grounded in rheto- 
ric, but made no display of his art ; he pounced upon 
his subject with strength and spirit, regardless of the 
graces he might, or might not, exhibit in his perform- 
ance. Mr. Webster has given us the characteristics of 
Mr. Adams's eloquence. 

* The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general 
character, and formed, indeed, a part of it. It was bold, 
manly, and energetic ; and such the crisis required. 
When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous 
occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong 
passions excited, nothing is valuable, in speech, farther 
than it is connected with high intellectual and moral en- 
dowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness are the 
qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence,, 
indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought 
from far. Labor and learning may toil for it, but they 
will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled 
in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist 
in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected 
passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all 
may aspire after it — they cannot reach it. It comes, if 
it comes at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from 
the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with 
spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught 
in the schools, the costly ornaments, and studied con- 
trivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their 
own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and 
their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then 
words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all 



80 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then 
feels rebuked, and subdued, as in the presence of higher 
qualities. Then, patriotism is eloquent; then, self-devo- 
tion is eloquent. The clear conception, outrunning the 
deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, 
the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming 
from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the 
whole man onward, right onward to his object — this, this 
is eloquence ; or rather it is something greater and higher 
than all eloquence, it is action, noble, sublime, godlike 
action.' 

The declining years of Mr. Jefterson are faithfully 
and beautifully drawn, exhibiting the composure of 
wisdom and the serenity of moral courage. The old 
age of most men is querulous and feeble : they are 
distressed to think life has passed on so far, and that 
they have so short a time to finish up the business of , 
it. Mr. Jefierson seemed to wait with patience, and 
was ready to obey the summons for his departure — 
watching the last rays of his setting sun as one wishing 
for rest after the toils and fatigues of the day ; that rest 
had come, and the orator had in charge his fame. 

• Both Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson had the pleasure 
of knowing that the respect, which they so largely re- 
ceived, was not paid to their official stations. They were 
not men made great by office ; but great men, on whom 
the country for its own benefit liad conferred office. 
There was that in them, which office did not give, and 
which the relinquishment of office did not, and could not, 
take away. In their retirement, in the midst of their 
fellow-citizens, themselves private citizens, they enjoyed 
as high regard and esteem, as when filling the most im- 
portant places of public trust. 

' There remained to Mr. Jeffisrson yet one other work 



LIFE OF WEBSTER, 81 

of patriotism and beneficence, the establishment of a 
university in his native State. To this object he devoted 
years of incessant and anxious attention, and by the 
enlightened liberality of the legislature of Virginia, and 
the co-operation of other able and zealous friends, he 
lived to see it accomplished. May all success attend 
this infant seminary ; and may those who enjoy its 
advantages, as often as their eyes shall rest on the neigh- 
boring height, recollect what they owe to their disinter- 
ested and indefatigable benefactor ; and may letters 
honor him who thus labored in the cause of letters 

' Thus useful, and thus respected, passed the old age 
of Thomas Jefferson. But time was on its ever-ceaseless 
wing, and was now bringing the last hour of this illus- 
trious man. He saw its approach, with undisturbed 
serenity. He counted the moments, as they passed, and 
beheld that his last sands were falling. That day, too, 
was at hand, which he had helped to make immortal. 
One wish, one hope — if it were not presumptuous — beat 
in his fainting breast. Could it be so — might it please 
God — he would desire — once more — to see the sun — 
once more to look abroad on the scene around him, on 
the great day of liberty. Heaven, in its mercy, fulfilled 
that prayer. He saw that sun — he enjoyed its sacred 
light — he thanked God for his mercy, and bowed his 
aged head to the grave. " Felix, non vitcB tantitm clari- 
tatc, sed etiam opportiinitate mortisJ'" 

In 1821 Mr. Webster was engaged in a cause of no 
small importance before the High Court of Impeachment 
in Massachusetts. It was a trial which called up strong 
feelings in the community, and attracted much attention 
throughout the Commonwealth : James Prescott, a 
Judi::;e of Probate of Wills, &:c. &ic. for the county of 
Middlesex, in that Commonwealth, was charged by 
the House of Representatives, acting as a grand inquest 



82 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

under the Constitution, with misconduct and malad- 
ministration in his office, inasmuch as he had held 
Probate Courts at other times than those authorised 
by law ; and for demanding and taking illegal fees and 
acting as Counsel, and for receiving fees in cases pend- 
ing in his own Court before him as judge. Prescott 
had long been considered a man of talents and integrity, 
and a most excellent Judge of Probate : his decisions 
had been held in great respect. In some instances he 
had found the law silent or vague, and uncertain upon 
many points. No small part of his course had been 
founded upon ancient usages ; and when new cases 
arose, he, as w^as customary in the preceding ages, 
legislated a little for himself This was thought no 
harm. He had proceeded in this course for sixteen 
years, and no one complained except the lawyers, who 
lost counsel fees by it. The judge had a little tinge of 
avarice in his composition, and some share of obstinacy, 
but no one thought him dishonest, or capable of acting 
corruptly. In an evil hour, a vindictive neighbor, 
offended by some cause not arising in the Court of 
Probate, entered his complaint upon some State allega- 
tions to the House of Representatives, on which the 
House thought it a duty to frame articles of impeach- 
ment, and therefore appointed managers to prosecute 
them to final judgment before the Senate, as the High 
Court of Impeachment. These managers were six of 
the most learned and eloquent members of the House, 
who discharged their duty with great ability. Mr. Web 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 83 

ster, Mr. Blake, and Mr. Hoar, were of Counsel for 
the respondent. The defence was opened by the latter 
gentleman, in a sound and able argument, and closed 
by Mr. Webster. If actmg out of the letter of the 
statute was wrong, the judge was culpable ; but in his 
defence it was argued that in the alleged cases, the 
statute was silent, and in no case had he violated any 
clause of it ; and that he had used a fair discretion in 
holding courts other than those fixed by law, and on 
occasions of emergency only. The practice was com- 
mon in almost every county in the Commonwealth ; 
but this, it was contended by the managers, could not 
avail if proved, as a common error could not establish 
a right ; but it certainly went far to show that there 
was no corruption. The taking of fees for advice, it 
was urged in the defence was not corrupt, for that this 
advice given was always judicious and saved expense 
of litigation, and assisted executors or administrators in 
the prompt discharge of their duties. The managers 
thought, that if evils had crept into this court, it was 
high time they were corrected, and this was a proper 
occasion to make the correction. Mr. Webster put 
forth his great strength in behalf of his cHent, and sel- 
dom was it more conspicuous. He felt that if his client 
had, in some instances acted imprudently, that he had 
not acted corruptly, and he breasted the arguments 
of the managers most strenuously. He went deeply 
into the origin of these courts for the probate of wills, 
and showed most clearly all the ancient usages in the 



84 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

ecclesiastical courts on which our probate courts 
were founded. The senate chamber was crowded, 
for a deep interest was excited : the advocate was more 
than usually earnest ; in fact, he showed most evidently' 
a great anxiety on the subject. His arguments seemed 
to sweep along like the billows of the ocean ; his voice ; 
became deep-toned, and now and then almost terrific. ! 
He seemed to have a presage of the opinion of the 
)najority of the judges, and he continued to strive with 
might and main to bring his client off safe. His speech, 
towards the close, became truly impassioned and sub- 
lime. There was a deep feeling in his bursts of elo- 
quence that agitated even those long accustomed toi 
hear his fairest efforts ; they saw his w hole soul was in 
the cause, and the audience followed him without hold- : 
ing back a jot, — they crowded closer and closer to him ' 
as he advanced in his argument ; and even envy owned 
that the struggle was gigantic. The close of the speech 
has come to us in a tamer form than that in wliich it ' 
was delivered ; but as we have it in print, it is one of | 
his most impassioned specimens of forensic eloquence. 
The reader shall judge for himself. 

* I now beg leave to call the attention of the Court to 
one or two considerations of a general nature, and which 
appear to me to have an important bearing on the merits 
of this whole cause. The first is this, that from the day 
when the respondent was appointed Judge of Probate, 
down to the period at which these articles of impeach- 
ment close — from the year 1S05 to 1821 — there is not 
a single case, with the exception of that alleged by Ware, 
in which it is even pretended that any secrecy was de- 






LIFE OF WEBSTER. 85 

signed or attempted by the Respondent : there is not a 
single case, in which he is even accused of having wished 
to keep an}'thing out of sight, or to conceal any fact in 
his administration, any charge which he had made, or 
^ny fee which he had taken. The evidence, on which 
you are to judge him, is evidence furnished by himself ; 
and instead of being obliged to seek for testimony in 
sources beyond the Respondent's control, it is his own 
avowed actions, his public administration, and the rec- 
ords of his office, which the Managers of the prosecution 
alone have been able to produce. And jet he is charged 
with having acted wilfully and corr^iptly ; as if it were 
possible that cL magistrate, in a high and responsible sta- 
tion, with the eyes of the community upon him, should, 
for near twenty years, pursue a course of corrupt and 
wilful maladministration, of which every act and -every 
instance was formally and publicly put on record by 
himself, and laid open in the face of the community. Is 
this agreeable to the laws of human nature 1 Why, sir, 
if the Respondent has so long been pursuing a course of 
-conscious, and wilful, and corrupt maladministration, 
why do we discover none of the usual and natural traces 
of such a course — some attempt at concealment, some 
effort at secrecy ; and in all the numberless cases, in 
which he had opportunity and temptation, why is not 
even a suspicion thrown out, that he has attempted to 
draw a veil of privacy over his alleged extortions ? — Is it 
in reason that you should be obliged to go to his own 
records for the proof of his pretended crimes ? And can 
you, with even the color of ])robability, appeal to a course 
of actions unsuspiciously performed in the face of Heaven, 
i to support an accusation of offences in their very nature 
private, concealed, and hidden ! 

^ Another consideration of a general nature to which 
I earnestly ask the attention of this Hon. Court, is this, 
that after all these accusations, which have been brought 
together against the Respondent, in all these articles of 
impeachment, and with all the industry and zeal, with 
which the matter of them has been furnished to the Hon. 

8 



g5 LIFE OF WEBSTEKr 

Managers, he is not accused nor was suspected of the 
crime, most likely to bring an unjust judge to the bar of 
this Court. Show me the unjust judgment he has ren- 
dered, the illegal order he has given, the corrupt decree 
he has uttered, the act of oppression he has committed. 
What, sir, a magistrate, charged with a long and delib- 
erate perseverance in wilful and corrupt administration, 
accused of extortion, thought capable of accepting the 
miserable bribe of a few cents or a few dollars, for il^gal 
and unconstitutional acts— and that, too, m an otUce, 
presenting every day the most abundant opportunities, 
and if the Respondent were of the character pretended, 
the most irresistible temptation to acts of lucrative injus- 
tice ; and yet, not one instance of a corrupt, illegal, or 
oppressive judgment 1 I do ask the permission of this 
Hon. Court and of every member of it, to put this to his 
own conscience. I will ask him, if he can now "ame ai 
more able and upright magistrate, as shown in all his 
proceedings and judgments, in all the offices of probate 
in the State ? One whose records are more regularly 
and properly kept, whose administration is more prompt, 
correct, and legal,— whose competency to the duties is 
more complete, whose discharge of them is more punc- 
tual ? I put this earnestly, sir, to the conscience ol every 
member of this Hon. Court. I appeal more especially 
to my honorable friend, {Mr. Fay) intrusted with a 
share of the management of this prosecution, and who 
has been for twenty years an inhabitant of the county of 
Middlesex. I will appeal to him, sir, and I will ask 
him, whether if he knew that this night his wife should 
be left husbandless and his children fatherless, there is a 
macristrate in the State, in whose protection he had 
rather they should be left, than in that of the Respon- 
dent? Forgetting, for a moment, that he is a prosecutor, 
and remembering only that he is a citizen of the same 
county, a member of the same profession, with an ac- 
quaintance of twenty years standing, I ask him if he will 
say that he believes there is a county in the State, m 
which the office of Judge of Probate has been better 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 87 

administered for twenty years, than it has been in the 
county of Middlesex by this Respondent. And yet, sir, 
you are asked to disgrace him. You are asked to fix on 
him the stigma of a corrupt and unjust judge, and con- 
demn him to wear it through life. 

' Mr. President, the case is closed ! The fate of the 
Respondent is in your hands. It is for you now to say, 
whether, from the law and the facts as they have ap- 
peared before you, you will proceed to disgrace and dis- 
franchise him. If your duty calls on you to convict him, 
convict him, and let justice be done ! but I adjure you 
let it be a clear undoubted case. Let it be so for his 
sake, for you are robbing him of that, for which with all 
your high powers, you can yield him no compensation ; 
let it be so for your own sakes, for the responsibility of 
this day's judgment is one, which you must carry with 
you through your life. For myself, I am willing here to 
relinquish the character of an advocate, and to express 
opinions by which I am willing to be bound, as a citizen 
of the community. And I say upon my honor and con- 
science, that I see not how, with the law and constitu- 
tion for your guides, you can pronounce the Respondent 
guilty. I declare, that I have seen no case of wilful and 
corrupt official misconduct, set forth according to the 
requisition of the constitution, and proved according to 
the common rules of evidence. I see many things im- 
prudent and ill judged ; many things that I could wish 
had been otherwise ; but corruption and crime I do not 
see. Sir, the prejudices of the day will soon be for- 
gotten ; the passions, if any there be, which have ex- 
cited or favored this prosecution, will subside ; but the 
consequence of the judgment you are about to render 
will outlive both them and you. The Respondent is now 
brought, a single unprotected individual, to this formid- 
able bar of judgment, to stand against the power and 
authority of the State. I know you can crush him, as 
he stands before you, and clothed as you are with the 
sovereignty of the State. You have the power " to 
chancre his countenance, and to send him away." Nor 



88 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

do I remind you that your judgment is to be rejudged 
by the community ; and as you have summoned him foF ' 
trial to this high tribunal, you are soon to descend your- 
selves from these seats of justice, and stand before the 
higher tribunal of the world. I would not fail so much 
m respect to this Hon. Court, as to hint that it could 
pronounce a sentence, which the community will reverse. 
No, sir, it is not the world's revision, which I would call 
on you to regard ; but that of your own con3cience& 
when years have gone by, and you shall look back on 
the sentence you are about to render. If you send away 
the Respondent, condemned and sentenced, from your 
bar, you are yet to meet bim in the world, on which you 
cast him out. You will be called to behold him a dis- 
grace to his family, a sorrow and a shame to his children, 
a living fountain of grief and agony to himself. 

' If you shall then be able to behold him only as an 
unjust judge, whom vengeance has overtaken, an4 justice 
has blasted, you will be able to look upon him, not with- 
out pity, but yet without remorse. But, if, on the other 
hand, you shall see,^ whenever and wherever you meet 
him, a victim of prejudice or of passion, a sacrifice to a 
transient excitement ; if you shall see ia him, a man, for 
whose condemnation any provision of the constitution, 
has been violated, or any pFincipte of law broken down ;. 
then will he be able — humble and low as may be his 
condition — then will he be able to turn the current of 
compassion backward, and to look with pity on those 
who have been iudores. If vou are about to visit this 
Respondent with a judgment which shall blast his house ; 
if the bosoms of the innocent and the amiable are to be 
made to bleed under your infliction, I beseech you to 
be able to state clear and strong grounds for your pro- 
ceeding. Prejudice and excitement are transitory, and 
will pass away. Political expediency,, in matters of ju- 
dicature, is a false and hollow principle, and will never 
satisfy the conscience of him who is fearful that be may 
have given a hasty judgment. I earnestly entreat yoUj. 
for your own sakes, to possess yourselves of solid reasons^ 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 89 

founded in truth and justice, for the judgment you pro- 
nounce, which you can carry with you, till you go down 
into your graves ; reasons, which it will require no argu- 
ment to revive, no sophistry, no excitement, no regard to 
popular favor, to render satisfactory to your consciences ; 
reasons which you can appeal to, in every crisis of your 
lives, and which shall be able to assure you, in your own 
great extremity, that you have not judged a fellow creature 
without mercy. 

' Sir, I have done with the case of this individual, and 
now leave him in your hands. But I would yet once 
more appeal to you as public men ; as statesmen ; as 
men of enlightened minds, capable of a large view of 
things, and of foreseeing the remote consequences of 
important transactions ; and, as such, I would most 
earnestly implore you to consider fully of the judgment 
you may pronounce. You are about to give a construc- 
tion to constitutional provisions, which may adhere to 
that instrument for ages, either for good or evil. I may 
perhaps overrate the importance of this occasion to the 
public welfare ; but I confess it does appear to me 
that if this body give its sanction to some of the princi- 
ples which have been advanced on this occasion, then 
there is a power in the State above the constitution and 
the law ; a power essentially arbitrary and concentrated, 
the exercise of which may be most dangerous. If im- 
peachment be not under the rule of the constitution and 
the laws, then may we tremble, not only for those who 
may be impeached, but for all others. If the full benefit 
of every constitutional provision be not extended to the 
Respondent, his case becomes the case of all the people 
of the Commonwealth. The constitution is their consti- 
tution. They have made it for their own protection, and 
for his among the rest. They are not eager for his con- 
viction. They are not thirsting for his blood. If he be 
condemned, without having his offences set forth, in the 
manner which they, by their constitution have prescribed ; 
and proved in the manner which they, by their laws have 
ordained, then not only is he condemned unjustly, but 
8* 



90 LIFE OF WEBSTER, 

the rights of the whole people disregarded. For the 
sake of the people themselves, therefore, I would resist 
all attempts to convict by straining the laws, or getting 
over their prohibitions. I hold up before him the broad 
shield of the constitution ; if through that he be pierced 
and fall, he will be but one sufferer^ in a common ca- 
tastrophe,' 

In 18:26, a resolution being presented to the House 
of Representatives for the appropriation of funds ne- 
cessary to enable the President of the United States to 
send Ministei^ to the Congress of Panama, — ]Mr. ISlc 
Lane, of Delaware, moved an amendment, the object 
of which was to restrain the power of the Ministers to 
l>e sent to ' a diplomatic character merely,' and to 
prevent them from dismissing, CGnsidering, or consult- 
ing on any j)roposiiions of alliance, defensive or offen- 
sive. The amendment v.as minute and particular, but 
was not satisfactory to Mr. Rives, of Virginia, who pro- 
posed an addition to the amendment, binding the INIin- 
isters still more closely. On this amendment, Mr. 
Webster addressed the House In a most able and 
learned argument. He said that there were only tv;o 
questions to be considered ; the first — •' Whether the 
House of Representatives will assume the responsi- 
bility of withholding the ordinary appropriation for car- 
rying into efiect an Executive measure, which the 
Executive department lias constitutionally Instituted ? 
The second, — whether, if it \nll not wlllihold the ap- 
propriation, it will yet take the responsibility of inter- 
posing with Its own opinions, directions, or instructions, 



LIFE OF WEBSTEPw 91 

as to the manner in which this particular Executive 
measure shall be conducted?' The debate had be- 
come animated before Mr. Webster arose, and he had 
become deeply interested in the question, and came 
out with spirit and determination, and took as v.'ide a 
survey as his opponents had ventured upon. Those 
unfriendly to the original motion, and those who moved 
the amendment were the same, or nearly so. The 
friends of the President thought, that a restriction such 
as this amendment proposed would unnecessarily inter- 
fere with the duties and prerogatives of the Executive, 
and be a bad precedent, even if within the course of 
Congressional authority. Such a power was not prob- 
ably even contemplated by the framers of the Consti- 
tution. 

Many of the topics of the debate were very general, 
and some of those called incidental were as interest- 
ing, if not more so, than the main question. South 
America had lately commenced a struggle for indepen- 
dence. It was no easy thing to shake off the yoke, 
which had for ages been fixed on their necks. The 
flame of liberty had spread from province to province, 
from mountain to mountain, — through all the plains 
and vales from Mexico to Peru. The voices of men 
fiahtino: for freedom were echoed through the whole 
land. The morning sun saw the ardent patriots on the 
east of the Andes, pouring out their blood as free as 
water, for liberty ; and his evening ray with all its 
mildness, witnessed ' the spasms of infuriated man, 



92 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

Struggling to recover his long lost liberty,' as the light 
streamed from the Pacific to the glaciers. The op- 
pressed had risen in one mass and hurled the tyrants 
and their minions to the dust, or drove them from the 
country, or confined the few remaining engines of ty- 
ranny to some narrow limits or some half a dozen 
strong holds. The lovers of liberty in this country 
and every country where liberty has a home, hailed 
with delight the prospect of South American emanci- 
pation. The patriots had every thing to do, and they 
WTnt on, as far as they knew what to do, with energy, 
patience, and perseverance. The cause was dear to 
the people of the United States, and they watched 
every breeze from the South with an anxious ear for 
the news from that agitated country. As soon as this 
country saw that there was a fair prospect, that South 
America could, with some assistance and good fortune, 
maintain their independence, the United States took 
part with them in feeling, if they could do no more. 
From these symptoms, and from his own heart, the 
President of the United States had spoken boldly and 
freely upon the subject of their independence, and the 
people were unanimous in repeating his declarations, 
and agreed to support him heart and hand, in the part 
he should take in the cause. 

South America had been a region of romance to us ; 
we had traced its history from the discovery of the 
country to the revolution. Nature had marked it with 
most extraordinary features, — exhibiting all that is 



LIFE OF WEBSTEK. 93 

wild, beautiful, and magnificent In scenery ; it has also 
all the varieties of climate, from perpetual verdure to 
eternal snows, — and its history abounds in the marvel- 
lous. The historian can give no satisfactory account 
of the nations found there, when tlie Spaniards came 
to subdue it. The concjuest of it by Pizarro and Cor- 
^tez is a tale of wonder throughout. The mild, soft, 
and lovely simplicity of the natives has been, in a good 
measure, lost by Spanish cruelty, and the succeeding 
race of intermingled blood unite some of the worst 
traits of both nations, — indolence and ferocity. Spain 
has been cursed in a thousand ways for the blood she 
has wantonly spilled ; but in none is it more distinctly 
seen than in the effects of the treasures she has dravrn 
from South America. Spain has been plundered and 
drained of the gold she wnmg from her colonies, and 
other nations enjoy what her avarice produced. She 
ruled her colonies with a rod of iron ; and, for the 
purpose of quenching every ray of civil liberty, had 
shrouded them with the thickest mantle of superstition, 
and from jealousy and bigotry had shut them from the 
rest of the world. All nations were excluded from the 
immense seaboard of South America, — a seaboard, the 
extent of which was half a measure of the circumfer- 
ence of the globe itself The mother country carried 
on her commerce sluggishly, and on her own terms. 
No olive-tree or vine was allowed to grow on soils 
most congenial to their cultivation. Now and then a 
smug2;ler stole into a port of South America at the risk 



94 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

of his property and life ; or someiimes, perhaps, neces- 
sity made a viceroy o)j(^i5 a port for a few months, 
but the colonies h'^fi no regular trade with any nation. 
This stale of things could not last forever. Some rays 
of light burst in upon the darkest portions of that coun- 
try. Although books were prohibited, and the press 
not allowed, yet the history of our revolution, and that 
of France became partially known to the people, par- 
ticularly to the most enterprizing ; and in every coun- 
try there will always be some more restless and active 
than the rest ; — added to this, several young men of 
the Spanish and half-blood were sent out of the coun- 
try to the United States and to England, for the pur- 
pose of getting an education. These, on their return 
home, became dissatisfied with the state of things, and 
began secretly to take measures to disseminate intelli- 
gence among the people ; and step by step they in- 
creased their influence and power ; which, at last, their 
indolent masters saw, and in attempting to put them 
down brought on the revolution. The patriots, after 
extraordinary efforts, were successful. If all the san- 
guine anticipated, has not been realized in their march 
to freedom, yet, much has been done in the cause of 
liberty ; and notwithstanding the confusion, the coun- 
ter-revolutions, and wars with one another, still the 
hopes of the sagacious are not extinguished, but it is 
fully believed, that Time will bring healing upon his 
wings for these Republics, now torn with intestine 
broils, and sufferina: with unnatural conflicts. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 95 

When these new Republics felt that they had done 
much, and had still more to do, they proposed a Con- 
gress to meet at Panama to discuss their domestic and 
foreign relations, in order to take their stand with ad- 
vantage among the nations of the world. The United 
States were invited to send a representation to this 
[■ body, and the President accepted of the invitation. 
The appropriation for their salaries was now under dis- 
cussion. Mr. Webster, full of the history of that wild 
and wonderful region, still came to the debate with a 
coolness, and a business spirit that became a statesman. 
He indulged in no unreasonable glow of romance upon 
the occasion ; but considered the question as one in- 
volving the great doctrines on which our country had 
acted from her birth. There were no rapturous views 
of liberty, — nothing of that swelling importance which 
is often found among some of our statesmen, who think 
the whole world must yield implichly to all our im- 
pressions of right and wrong whatever they might be ; 
but he put the subject on well settled principles, and 
dared to hazard all consequences upon them. South 
America was struggling for emancipation, and he wished 
the United States to say to the world, ' that as we 
saved ourselves by such principles, we dare avow 
them, and act upon them, when other States are con- 
tending for their rights also.' Mr. Webster did not 
wish this country to make a Quixotic avowal, in the 
case that we would go with them heart and hand at all 
lengths, but simply to say that we would consult with 



96 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

them at ali proper times and on all occasions, and do 
all for them consistent with our existing duties. This 
was manly and it was right also. 

]Mr. Canning, the British Premier, boasted, that he 
iiad created the South American Republics ; this was 
the vanity of the great statesman, for the fire had de- 
scended from heaven and the mass of clay had been 
quickened into life, and stood erect as a man, before 
he, who would be thought the modern Prometheus, 
had contemplated the creation that sv\-elled his heart 
with so much pride. 

From the breaking out of tlie revolution in South 
America up to the time of the Congress of Panama, 
the people of that country looked to those of the United 
States for strong sympathies and friendly courtesies, if 
not for direct assistance ; and the United States were 
not only friendly but enthusiastic in the cause of free- 
dom ; but some changes had come over a portion of 
our people, when this resolution for the appropriation 
of funds to defray the expenses of this Panama mission 
was offered in the House of Representatives ; yet, 
notwithstanding this change, it was not a little singular, 
and somewhat painful, to hear in Congress, the sons of 
those who had invoked gods and men to assist them 
in their revolutionary struggles, talking with so much 
indifference on this great question. Theirs was a case 
of stronger oppression than ours. The grievances of 
the British Colonies consisted chiefly in assumption 'of 
false principles on the part of the mother country, out 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 97 

of which evils might have grown, but their cause cf 
rebelHon was absolute, heartfelt misery from the hand 
of the oppressor, whose little finger was thicker than 
the loins of those who oppressed us. 

Mr. Webster had no hesitation in boldly avowing 
his sympathy for the people of South America. In 
the close of his speech, he said, ' If it be a weakness to 
feel the sympathy of one's nature excited for such 
men, in such a cause, I am guilty of that weakness. If 
it be prudence to meet their proffered civility, not with 
reciprocal kindness, but with coldness or insult, I still 
choose to follow where natural impulse leads, and to 
give up that false and mistaken prudence, for the vol- 
untary sentiments of my heart.' 

The whole speech is full of sound argimients and 
honorable feelings. The following extract, a small 
portion of the speech, glances at the situation of South 
America, and touches upon the policy our Government 
should pursue. 

* I am, therefore, Mr. Chairman, against the amend 
ment ; not only as not being a proper manner of exer- 
cising any power belonging to this House ; but also as 
not containing instructions fit to be given, if we possessed 
the power of giving them. And as my vote will rest oil 
these grounds, I might terminate my remarks here ; but 
the discussion has extended over a broader surface, and 
following where others have led, I will ask your indul- 
gence to a few observations on the more general topics 
of the debate. 

' Mr Chairman : it is our fortune to be called upon to 
act our part, as public men, at a most interesting era in 
human affairs. The short period of your life, and of 

9 



98 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

mine, has been thick and crowded with the most impor- 
tant events. Not only new interests and new relations 
have sprung up among States, but new societies, new 
nations, and families of nations, have risen to take their 
places, and perform their parts, in the order and the in- 
tercourse of the world. Every man, aspiring tof^ the 
character of a statesman, must endeavor to enlarge his 
views to meet this new state of things. He must aim at 
adequate comprehension, and instead of being satisfied 
with that narrow political sagacity, which, like the power 
of minute vision, sees small things accurately, but can 
see nothing else, he must look to the far horizon, and 
embrace, in his broad survey, whatever the series of re- 
cent events has brought into connexion, near or remote, 
with the country whose interests he studies to serve. 
We have seen eight States, formed out of colonies on our 
own continent, assume the rank of nations. 

* This is a mighty revolution, and when we consider 
what an extent of the surface of the globe they cover ; 
through what climates they extend ; what population 
they contain, and what new impulses they must derive 
from this change of government, we cannot but perceive 
that great effects are likely to be produced on the inter- 
course, and the interests of the civilized world. Indeed, 
it has been forcibly said, by the intelligent and distin- 
guished statesman who conducts the foreign relations of 
England, that when we now speak of Europe and the 
world, we mean Europe and America; and that the dif- 
ferent systems of these two portions of the globe, and 
their several and various interests, must be thoroughly 
studied and nicely balanced by the statesmen of the times. 
' In many respects, sir, the European and the Ameri- 
can nations are alike. They are alike Christian States, 
civilized States, and commercial States. They have 
access to the same common fountains of intelligence; 
they all draw from those sources which belong to the 
whole civilized world. In knowledge and letters — in 
the arts of peace and war, they differ in degrees ; but 
they bear, nevertheless, a general resemblance. On the 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 99 

Other hand, in matters of government and social institu- 
tion, the nations on this continent are founded upon 
principles which never did prevail, in considerable extent, 
either at any other time, or in any other place. There 
has never been presented to the mind of man a more 
interesting subject of contemplation than the establish- 
ment of so many nations in America, partaking in the 
civilisation and in the arts of the old world, but havincr 
left behind them those cumbrous institutions which had 
their origin in a dark and military age. Whatsoever 
European experience has developed favorable to the free- 
dom and the happiness of man ; whatsoever European 
genius has invented for his improvement or gratification ; 
whatsoever of refinement or polish the culture of Euro- 
pean society presents for his adoption and enjoyment — 
all this is offered to man in America, with the additional 
advantages of the full power of erecting forms of govern- 
ment on free and simple principles, without overturning 
institutions suited to times long passed, but too strongly 
supported, either by interests or prejudices, to be shaken 
without convulsions. This unprecedented state of things 
presents the happiest of all occasions for an attempt to 
establish national intercourse upon improved principles ; 
upon principles tending to peace, and the mutual pros- 
perity of nations. In this respect America, the whole of 
America, has a new career before her. If we look back 
on the history of Europe, we see how great a portion of 
the last two centuries her States have been at war for 
interests connected mainly with her feudal monarchies ; 
wars for particnlar dynasties ; wars to support or defeat 
particular successions ; wars to enlarge or curtail the 
dominions of particular crowns ; wars to support or to 
dissolve family alliances ; wars, in fine, to enforce or to 
resist religious intolerance. What long and bloody 
chapters do these not fill, in the history of European 
politics ! Who does not see, and who does not rejoice 
to see, that America has a glorious chance of escaping, 
at least, these causes of contention. Who does not see, 
and who does not rejoice to see, that, on this continent, 



100 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

under other forms of government, we have before us ihe 
noble hope of being able-, by the mere influence of civil | 
liberty and religious toleration, to dry up these outpour- 
incr fountains of blood, and to extinguish these consum- 
ing fires of war. The general opinion of the age favors 
such hopes and such prospects. There is a growing 
disposition to treat the intercourse of nations more like 
the useful intercourse of friends ; philosophy — just views 
of national advantage, good sense and the dictates of a , 
common religion, and an increasing conviction that war 
is not the interest of the human race — all concur, to in- i 
crease the interest created by this new accession to the 
list of nations. 

* We have heard it said, sir, that the topic of South 
American Independence is worn out, and threadbare^ 
Such it may be,^ sir, to those who have contemplated if 
merely as an article of news, like the fluctuation of the 
markets, or the rise and fall of stocks. Such it may be. 
to those minds who can see no consequences following 
from these great events. But whoever has either under- 
stood fherr present importance, or can at all estimate 
their future influence — whoever has reflected on the new 
relations they introduce with other States — whoever, 
among ourselves especially, has m.edilated on the new 
relations vrhich we now bear to them, and the strikincr 
attitude in which we ourselves are now placed, as the 
oldest of the American nations, will feel that the topic 
can never be without interest; and will be sensible, that, 
whether we are wise enough to perceive it or not, the 
establishment of South American independence will af- 
fect ail nations, and ourselves perhaps more thail any 
other, through all coming time. 

' But, sir, although the independence of these new 
States seems effectually accomplished, yet a lingering 
and hopeless war is kept up against them by Spain. 
This is greatly to be regretted by all nations. To Spain 
it is, as every reasonable man sees, useless, and without 
hope. To the new States themselves it is burdensome 
and afflictive. To the comi;.ierce of neutral nations it is 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 101 

annoying and vexatious. There seems to be something 
of the pertinacity of the Spanish character in holding on 
in such a desperate course. It reminds us of the seventy 
years during which Spain resisted the independence of 
Holland. I think, however, that there is some reason to 
believe that the war approaches to its end. I believe 
that the measures adopted by our own Government have 
had an effect in tending to produce that result. I un- 
derstand, at least, that the question of recognition has 
been taken into consideration by the Spanish Govern- 
ment ; and it may be hoped that a war, which Spain 
finds to be so expensive, which the whole world tells her 
is so hopeless, and which, if continued, now threatens 
her with new dangers, she may, ere long, have the pru- 
dence to terminate. 

' Our own course during this contest between Spain 
and her colonies is well known. Though entirely and 
strictly neutral, we were in favor of early recognition. 
Our opinions were known to the allied sovereigns when 
in Congress at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1818, at which time 
the affairs of Spain and her colonies were under consid- 
eration ; and, probably, the knowledge of those senti- 
ments, together witli the policy adopted by England, 
prevented any interference by other powers at that time. 
Yet we have treated Spain with scrupulous delicacy. 
We acted on the case as one of civil war. We treated 
with the new Governments as Governments de facto. 
Not questioning the right of Spain to coerce them back 
to their old obedience, if she had the power, we yet held 
it to be our right to deal with them as with existing Gov- 
ernments in fact, when the moment arrived at which it 
became apparent and manifest that the dominion of Spain 
over these, her ancient colonies, was at an end. Our 
right, our interest, and our duty, all concurred at that 
moment to recommend recognition — and we did recog- 
nise. 

' Now, sir, the history of this proposed Congress goes 
back to an earlier date than that of our recognition. It 

9* 



102 



LIFE OF WEBSTE^R. 



commenced in 18*2 1 ; and one of (he treaties now be- 
fore us, proposing such a meeting, that between Colom- 
bia and Cliili, was concluded in July, 1822, a few months 
only after we had acknowledged the independence of the 
new States. Tlie idea originated, doubtless, in the Avish 
to strengthen the ur^ion among the new govern ment^^, 
and to promote the common cause of all, the elfectuaf 
resistance to Spanish authority. As independence was 
at that time their leading object, it is natural to suppose 
that they contemplated this mode of mutual intercourse 
and mutual arrangement, as favorable to the necessary 
concentration of purpose and of action,, for the attain- 
ment of that object. But this purpose of the Congress, 
or this leading idea, in which it may be supposed to have 
originated, has led, as it seems to me, to great misappre- 
hensions as to its true character, and great mistakes in 
regard to the danger to be apprehended from our sending 
ministers to the meeting. This meeting, sir, is a Con- 
gress — not a Congress as the word is known to our Con- 
stitution and laws, for we use it in a peculiar sense ; but 
as it is known to the lav/ of nations. A Congress, by 
the law of nations, is but an appointed meeting for the 
settlement of affairs between different nations, in which 
the representatives or agents of each treat and negotiate 
as they are instructed by their own government. In 
other words, this Congress is a diplomatic meeting. We 
are asked to join no government — no legislature — no 
league — acting by votes. It is a Congress, such as those 
of Westphalia, of Nimeguen, of Ryswyck, or of Utrecht ; 
or such as those which have been holden in Europe, in 
our own time. No nation is a party to any thing done 
in such assemblies, to which it does not expressly make 
itself a party. No one's rights are put at the disposition 
of any of the rest, or of all the rest. What ministers 
agree to, being afterwards duly ratified at home, binds 
their government ; and nothing else binds the govern- 
ment. Whatsover is done, to which they do not assent, 
neither binds the ministers nor their government, any 
more tliau if they had not been present. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 103 

' These truths, sir, seem too plain, and too common- 
place to be stated. I find my apology only in those mis- 
apprehensions of the character of the meeting to which 
I have referred both now and formerly. It has been 
said that commercial treaties are not negotiated at such 
meetings. Far otherwise is the fact. Among the earliest 
of important stipulations made in favor of commerce and 
navigation, were those at Westphalia. And wliat we 
call the treaty of Utrecht, was a bundle of treaties nego- 
tiated at that Congress; some of peace, some of boun- 
dary, and others of commerce. Again, it has been said, 
in order to prove that this meeting is a sort of confed- 
eracy, that such assemblies are out of the way of ordi- 
nary negotiation, and are always founded on, and pro- 
vided for, by previous treaties. Pray, sir, what treaty 
preceded the Congress at Utrecht? and the meeting of 
our Plenipotentiaries with those of England at Ghent, 
what was that but a Congress 1 and what treaty preceded 
it ? It is said, again, that there is no sovereign to whom 
our ministers can be accredited. Let me ask whether, 
in the case last cited, our ministers exhibited their cre- 
dentials to the mayor of Ghent ? Sir, the practice of na- 
tions in these matters is well known, and is iree of diffi- 
culty. If the Government be not present, agents or 
Plenipotentiaries interchange their credentials. And 
when it is said that our ministers at Panama will be, not 
ministers, but deputies, members of a deliberative body, 
not protected in their public character by the public law ; 
when all this is said, propositions are advanced, of which 
I see no evidence whatever, and M'hich appear to me to 
be wholly without foundation. 

' It is contended that this Congress, by virtue of the 
treaties which the new States have entered into, will 
possess powers other than those of a diplomatic charac- 
ter, as between those new States themselves. If that 
were so, it would be unimportant to us. The real ques- 
tion here is, what will be our relation with those States, 
by sending ministers to this Congress? Their arrange- 
ments amoncr themselves will not affect us. Even if it 



104 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

were a Government, like our old confederation, yet, if 
its members had authority to treat with us in behalf of 
their respective nations on subjects on which we have 
a right to treat, the Congress might still be a very 
proper occasion for such negotiations. Do gentlemen 
forget that the French Minister was introduced to our 
old Congress, met in its sessions, carried on oral discus- 
sions with it, and treated with it in behalf of the French 
King 1 All that did not make him a member of it ; nor 
connect him at all with the relations which its members 
bore to each other. As he treated on the subject of car- 
rying on the war against England, it was, doubtless, hos- 
tile towards that power ; but this consequence followed 
from the object and nature of the stipulations, and not 
from the manner of the intercourse. The representa- 
tives of these South American States, it is said, will 
carry on belligerent councils at this Congress. Be it so; 
we shall not join in such councils. At the moment of 
invitation, our Government informed the ministers of 
those States, that we could not make ourselves a party 
to the war between them and Spain, nor to councils for 
deliberating on the means of its further prosecution. 

' If, it is asked, we send ministers to a Congress com- 
posed altogether of belligerents, is it not a breach of 
neutrality ? Certainly not ; no man can say it is. Sup- 
pose, sir, that these ministers from the new States, in- 
stead of Panama, were to assemble at Bogota, where we 
already have a minister ; their councils, at that place, 
might be belligerent, while the war should last with 
Spain. But should we, on that account, recall our min- 
ister from Bogota ? The whole argument rests on this ; 
that because, at the same time and place, the agents of 
the South American Governments may negotiate about 
their own relations with each other, in regard to their 
common war against Spain, therefore we cannot at the 
same time and place, negotiate with them, or any of 
them, upon our own neutral and commercial relations. 
This proposition, sir, cannot be maintained ; and, there- 
fore, all the inferences from it fail. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 105 

' But, sir, I see no proof that, as between themselves, 
the representatives of the South American States are to 
possess other than diplomatic powers. I refer to the 
treaties, which are essentially alike, and which have been 
often read. 

'With two exceptions, (which I will notice,) the arti- 
cles of these treaties, describing the powers of the Con- 
gress, are substantially like those in the treaty of Paris^ 
in 1814, providing for the Congress at Vienna. It was 
there stipulated that all the powers should send plenipo- 
tentiaries to Vienna, to regulate, in general Congress^ 
the arrangements to complete the provisions of the pre- 
sent treaty. Nov*-, it miglit have been here asked, how 
regulate ? How^ regulate in general Congress ? — regu- 
late by votes? Sir, nobody asked such questions; sim- 
ply because it was to be a Congress of plenipotentiariesv 
The two exceptions which I have mentioned, are, that 
this Congress is to act as a council and to interpret trea- 
ties ; but there is nothing in either of these to be done 
which may not be done diplomatically. What is more 
common than diplomatic intercourse, to explain and to 
interpret treaties 1 Or what more frequent than that na- 
tions, having a common object, interchange mutual 
counsels and advice, through the medium of their res- 
pective ministers ? To bring this matter, sir, to the test, 
let m.e ask, when these ministers assemble at Panama, 
can they do anything but according to their instruc- 
tions? Have they any organization, any power of action, 
or any rule of action common to them all ? No more, 
sir, than the respective ministers at the Congress of Vi- 
enna. Everything is settled by the use of the word 
Plenipotentiary. ^That proves the meeting to be diplo- 
matic, and nothing else. Who ever heard of a plenipo- 
tentiary member of the Legislature?— a plenipotentiary 
burgess of a city ?--or a plenipotentiary kuighi of the 

shire ? 

' We may dismiss all fears, sir, arising from the nature 
of this meeting. Our agents will go there, if they go al 
all, in the character of ministers, protected by the public 



106 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

law, negotiating only for ourselves, and not called on to 
violate any neutral duty of their own government. If it 
be so that this meeting has other powers, in consequence 
of other arrancjenients between other States, of which I 
see no proof, still, we are not party to these arrange- 
ments, nor can be in any way affected by them. As far 
as this government is concerned, nothing can be done 
but by negotiation, as in other cases. I 

* It has been affirmed, that this measure, and the sen- ' 
timents expressed by the Executive relative to its objects, 
are an acknowledged departure from the neutral policy 
of the United States. Sir, I deny there is an acknowl- 
edged departure, or any departure at all, from the neu- 
tral policy of the country. What do we mean by our 
neutral policy? Not, I suppose, a blind and stupid in- 
difference to whatever is passing around us ; not a total 
disregard to approaching events, or approaching evils, 
till they meet us full in the face. Nor do we mean, by 
our neutral policy, that we intend never to assert our 
rights by force. No, sir. We mean by our policy of 
neutrality, that the great objects of national pursuit with 
us are connected with peace. We covet no provinces ; 
we desire no conquests ; we entertain no ambitious pro- 
jects of aggrandizement by war. This is our policy. 
But it does not follow, from this, that we rely less than 
other nations, on our own power to vindicate our own 
rights. We know that the last loofic of kino-s is also our 
last logic ; that our own interests must be defended and 
maintained by our own arm ; and that peace or war may 
not always be of our own choosing. Our neutral policy, 
therefore, not only justifies but requires, our anxious at- 
tention to the political events which take place in the 
world, a skilful perception of their relation to our own 
concerns, and an early anticipation of their consequences, i 
and firm and timely assertion of what we hold to be our 
own rights, and our own interests. Our neutrality is 
not a predetermined abstinence, either from remon- 
strances, or from force. Our neutral policy is a policy 
that protects neutrality, that defends neutrality, that takes 



I 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 107 

Up arms, if need be, for neutrality. When it is said, 
tiierefore, that this measure departs from our neutral pol- 
icy, either that policy, or the measure itself, is misun- 
derstood. It implies either that the object or the ten- 
dency of the measure is to involve us in the war of other 
States, which I think cannot be shown, or that the asser- 
tion of our own sentiments, on points affecting deeply 
our own interests, may place us in a hostile attitude with 
i other States, and that, therefore, we depart from neu- 
trality ; whereas, the truth is, that the decisive assertion, 
and the firm support of these sentiments, may be most 
essential to the maintenance of neutrality. 

' An honorable member from Pennsylvania thinks this 
Congress will bring a dark day over the United States. 
Doubtless, sir, it is an interesting moment in our his- 
tory ; but I see no great proofs of thick coming dark- 
ness. But the object of the remark seemed to be to 
show that the President himself saw difficulties on all 
sides, and, making a choice of evils, preferred rather to 
send ministers to this Congress, than to run the risk of 
exciting the hostility of the States by refusing to send. 
In other words, the gentleman wished to prove that the 
President intended an alliance ; although such intention 
is expressly disclaimed. 

' Much commentary has been bestowed on the letters 
of invitation from the ministers. I shall not go through 
with verbal criticisms on these letters. Their general 
import is plain enough. I shall not gather together 
small and minute quotations, taking a sentence here, a 
word there, and a syllable in a third place, dovetailing 
■ them into the course of remark, till the printed discourse 
bristles with inverted commas, in every line, like a har- 
vest-field. I look to the general tenor of the invitations, 
and I find that we are asked to take part only in such 
things as concern ourselves. I look still more carefully 
to the answers, and I see every proper caution, and pro- 
per guard. I look to the message, and I see that noth- 
ing is there contemplated, likely to involve us in other 
men's quarrels, or that may justly give offence to any 
foreign State. With this, I am satisfied.' 



108 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

In April, 1828, a bill was before Congress for the 
relief of certain officers of the revolutionary war. In 'I 
1780, the army was in a state of wretchedness, in want 
of food, clothes, and pay, and it seemed as if the cause j 
was, after all the struggles and hardships, about to be 
abandoned for want of means to support an army. In 
this state of affairs. Congress had resort to an act, giv- 
ing in the plenitude of a promise, half-pay for life to 
those officers who would engage to serve their country 
during the war. This body staked the faith of the na- 
tion for the redemption of the pledge. The brave suf- 
ferers accepted the offer, believing that the country 
would be able to pay them if the war was once fairly 
ended, and they were determined to end it as soon as 
possible. By this, new" life and energy was restored 
to the army, and they went on with a high spirit, trust- 
ing to this faith of the nation, so solemnly pledged. 
In 1783, Congress made a commutation of this half- 
pay for life, reasoning upon what they thought the 
country was able to pay, rather than upon the tenns of 
the solemn contract. A few agents spake and acted for 
the whole body of the officers ; but as a body the officers 
W'Cre never satisfied with the result, with this huckster- 
ing of the Government. Many fell into the measure, 
fearing that if this commutation w^as refused, nothing \ 
would ever be obtained. Some thought perhaps this 
was the best the country could do, and of course were 
silent. The old soldier who had made so many sacri- 
fices, was not disposed to quarrel now, about this act of 






LIFE OF WEBSTER. 109* 

mjustlce, after he had been quiet so long. Some had 
a strong faith that when the treasury should be full, 
■ and the nation prosperous, all would come right. 
When the time of peace and prosperity did arrive, a 
law making provision for the officers and soldiers of 
the revolution, was recommended by the President of 
the United States, and passed by Congress. This did 
much good, and saved many from living upon the 
charity of friends, or from suffering ; but the act was 
so narrowly construed, that none but those absolutely 
suffering for daily bread were considered within the 
pale of it. But few of the officers who had accepted 
of the commutation had come within the act passed in 
_ 1818, and they petitioned Congress for some settle- 
ment in equity and justice of their claims. Influential 
agents were chosen from the survivors of those officers 
who had accepted the offer of Congress in 1780, who 
repaired to Washington to represent the merits of their 
claims before a committee of Congress. They made 
their appearance ; — the silver-haired veterans were 
t seen pacing the lobbies of the capitol, waiting to catch 
]d, look from some member who was supposed to be 
friendly, or to have some influence in the House or 
Senate, when the bill should be called up. One would 
have supposed that such a bill would have passed with 
^ acclamation, but there were many difficulties in the 
>w^ay, that could hardly be imagined. Those who said 
anything upon the subject, considered that these old 
soldiers had a good claim on the country, in equity ; 
10 

! 



110 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

but all equitable claims had not legal lights, much less 
remedies. A new generation had arisen since the 
revolutionary war, who thought it the most prudent 
way to consider ail these matters as out-lawed. The 
whole subject was excellent on the page of history ; 
shone bright there, and made up no small part of our 
glory, but to pay for this was too bad ! They acted 
virtually upon the maxim of the philosopher, who said, 
* It was well enough for dutiful children to raise a 
monument to their departed parents, but succeeding 
generations were romantic who should rebuild the pile 
when in a state of dilapidation.' The subject of hard- 
fighting ancestors was all-glorious, was excellent to 
paint a moral or adorn a tale, but to pay for all this 
after half a century, was something too near vulgar 
life ; to put their hands into the treasury and to take 
out gold for those old stones, was too bad ! It would 
take off no small portion of the delight they had felt in 
contemplating the subject, to do this ! 

Some of the members had constituents whose coun- 
try had come into existence, as a place of civilization, i 
since all these things had happened, since these talked- >;! 
of services had been performed ; and it could not be I 
expected that they would look back far enough to trace ! 
their connexion with the services of these old soldiers. 
These men w^ere brought reluctantly, if at all, to vote 
for such a bill. The impassioned appeal w^as to them, 
like lightning on the impassive ice. Their hearts were 
cold to the claim of the warriors who had fought half a 

f 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. Ill 

century ago. There v/ere some noble exceptions to 
this remark among those whose constituents were not 
directly interested. These met objection after objec- 
tion, contended with their opponents without flinching, 
and put down sneer and sarcasm with honest inten- 
tions and good feelings, and held on until victory was 
secured. These good men and true, felt heart-sick at 
times, to hear the old soldier reviled, or treated with 
disrespect. 

Mr. Webster, thinking the question a clear one, and 
believing that the bill would pass without any difficulty, 
and being much engaged in other matters of business, 
had not thought of making a speech on the subject, 
but looking around, and seeing the venerable agents of 
these venerable relicts of other days, — Ogden and 
Reed, — officers who had fought without fear, and lived 
without reproach, except that of being made poor by 
devoting their lives and property to the cause of the 
revolution ; he could restrain himself no longer ; but re- 
solved to come to the succour, to the joy of the old sol- 
diers. He condensed all the arguments in favor of the 
bill into a fev/ favorable remarks, and struck down 
those raised against it at a blow. The argument was 
condensed, strong, and in fact irresistible. No war- 
cry ever raised these veteran officers as did his speech, 
— ^they laughed, they wept, they were happy. If the bill 
had been rejected, and they ordered to the scaffold, it 
w^ould have been of no consequence to them at that 
moment ; for they had lived to hear, after half a cen- 



112 LIFE OF WEBSTEfi. 

tuiy, themselves defended by one who felt their 
wrongs, and knew their rights ; one who spake of theiii 
without fee, favor, or reward, except that reward which 
arises from a consciousness of having done one's duty. 
The tears of the veterans Were infectious, the sympa- 
thy extended to the audience, reached the members of 
the Senate, — and the bill passed. The nation hailed 
it as one more act of reluctant justice, and augured 
from it that in time something further would be done 
to relieve those who ventured all for their countrv in 
her utmost need. 

This short speech affords so favorable a specimen of 
Mr. Webster^s condensed and forcible style of argu- 
ment, that it is here presented to tlie reader entii-e. 

' It has not been my purpose to take any part in the 
discussion of this bill. My opinions in regard to its 
general object, I hope are well known ; and I had in- 
tended to content myself with a steady and persevering 
vote in its flivor. But, when the moment of final decis- 
ion has come, and the division is so likely to be nearly 
equal, I feel it to be a duty to put not only my own vote, 
but my own earnest wishes also, and my fervent en- 
treaties to others, into the doubtful scale. 

' It must be admitted, sir, that the persons for whose 
benefit this bill is designed, are, in some respects, pe- 
culiarly unfortunate. They are compelled to meet not 
only objections to the principle, but, whichever way they 
turn themselves, embarrassing objections also to details. 
One friend hesitates at this provision, and another at 
that ; while those who are not friends at all, of course 
oppose everything, and propose nothing. When it was 
contemplated, lieretofore, to give the petitioners an out- 
right sum, in satisfaction of their claim, then the argu^ 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 113 

ment was, among other things, that the treasury could 
not bear so heavy a draught on its means, at the present 
moment. 

' The plan is accordingly changed : an annuity is pro- 
posed ; and then the objection changes also ; and it is 
now said, that this is but granting pensions, and that the 
pension system has already been carried too far. I con- 
fess, sir, 1 felt wounded — deeply hurt — at the observa- 
tions of the gentleman from Georgia. *' So then," said 
he, "these modest and high-minded gentlemen take a 
pension at last !" How is it possible, that a gentleman 
of his generosity of character, and general kindness of 
feeling, can indulge in such a tone of triumphant irony 
towards a few old, gray headed, poor, and broken war- 
riors of the revolution ! There is, I know, something 
repulsive and opprobrious in the name of pension. But, 
God forbid that I should taunt them with it ! With 
grief, heart-full grief, do I behold the necessity which 
leads these veterans to accept the bounty of their coun- 
try, in a manner not the most agreeable to their feelings. 
Worn out and decrepit, represented before us by those, 
their former brothers in arms, who totter along our 
lobbies, or stand leaning on their crutches. I, for one, 
would most gladly support such a measure as should con- 
sult at once their services, their years, their necessities, 
and the delicacy of their sentiments. I would gladly 
give, with promptitude and grace, with gratitude and 
delicacy, that which merit has earned, and necessity 
demands. 

' Sir, what are the objections urged against this bill ? 
Let us look at them, and see if they be real ; let us 
weigh them, to know if they be solid. For, sir, we are 
not°acting on a slight matter. Nor is what we do likely 
to pass unobserved now, or to be forgotten hereafter. I 
regard the occasion as one full of interest and full of re- 
sponsibility. Those individuals, the little remnant of a 
gallant band, whose days of youth and manhood were 
spent for their country in the toils and dangers of the 
field, are now before us, poor and old, — intimating their 
10* 



114 LIFE OF WEBSTElt. 

^vants with reluctant delicacy, and asking succor from 
their country with decorous solicitude. How we shall 
treat them, it behooves us well to consider, not only for 
their sake, but for our own sake, also, and for the sake 
of tlie honor of the country. "Whatever we do, will not 
be done in a corner. Our constituents will see it ; the 
people will see it ; the world will see it. 

' Let us candidly examine, then, the objections which 
have been raised to this bill ; with a disposition to yield 
to them, if from necessity we must ; but to overcome 
them, if in fairness we can. 

' In the first place, it is said, that we ought not to pass 
the bill, because it will involve us in a charge of un- 
known extent. We are reminded, that when the cjene- 
ral pension law for revolutionary soldiers passed, an 
expense was incurred far beyond what had been con- 
templated ; that the estimate of the number of surviving 
revolutionary soldiers, proved altogether fallacious ; and 
that, for aught we know, the same mistake may be com- 
mitted now. 

* Is this objection well-founded ? Let me say, in the 
first place, that if one measure, right in itself, has gone 
farther than it was intended to be carried, for want of 
accurate provisions, and adequate guards, this may 
furnish a very good reason for supplying such guards 
and provisions in another measure, but can afford no 
ground at all for rejecting such other measure, alto- 
gether, if it be in itself just and necessary. We should 
avail ourselves of our experience, it seems to me, to cor- 
rect what has been found amiss ; and not to draw from 
it an undistinguishing resolution to do nothing, merely 
because it has taught us, that, in something we have 
already done, we have acted with too little care. In the 
next place, does the fact bear out this objection ? Is 
there any difficulty in ascertaining the number of the 
officers who will be benefited by this bill, and in esti- 
mating the expense, therefore, which it will create ? I 
think there is none. The records in the department of 
war, and the treasury, furnish such evidence as that 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 115 

Shere is no clanger of material mistake. The diligence 
of tlie chairman of the committee has enabled him to 
lay the facts, connected with this part of the case, so 
fully and minutely before the Senate, that I think no 
one can feel serious doubt. Indeed, it is admitted by 
the adversaries of the bill, that this objection does not 
apply here with the same force as in the former pension- 
law. It is admitted that there is a greater facility in 
this case than in that, in ascertaining the number and 
names of those who will be entitled to receive that 
bounty. 

' This objection, then, is not founded in true princi- 
ple ; and if it were, it is not sustained by the facts. I 
ihink we ought not to yield to it, unless, (which I know- 
is not the sentiment which pervades the Senate,) feeling 
that the measure ought not to pass, we still prefer not 
to place our opposition to it on a distinct and visible 
ground, but to veil it under vagae and general objec- 
tions. 

' In the second place, it has been objected, that the 
operation of the bill will be unequal, because all officers 
of the same rank will receive equal benefit from it, al- 
though they entered the army at different times, and 
were°of different ages. Sir, is not this that sort of ine- 
quality which must always exist in every general provis- 
ion 1 Is it possible that any law can descend into such 
particulars T Would there be any reason why it should 
do so, if it could ? The bill is intended for those, who, 
being in the army in October, 1780, then received a 
solemn promise of half-pay for life, on condition that 
they would continue to serve through the war. Their 
ground of merit is, that whensover they had joined the 
army, being thus solicited by their eountry to remain in 
it, they at once went for the whole ; they fastened their 
fortunes to the standards which they bore, and resolved 
to continue their military service till it should terminate 
either in their country's success or in their own deaths. 
This is their merit and their ground of claim. How 
long they had been already in service, is immaterial and 



116 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

unimportant. They were then in service ; the salvation 
of their country depended on their continuing in that 
service. Congress saw this imperative necessity, and 
earnestly solicited them to remain, and promised the 
compensation. They saw the necessity, also, and they 
yielded to it. 

'But, again, it is said that the present time is not 
auspicious. The bill, it is urged, should not pass now. 
The venerable member from North Carolina says, as I 
understood him, that he would be almost as willing that 
the bill should pass at some other session, as be discussed 
at this. He speaks of the distresses of the country at 
the present moment, and of another bill, now in the 
Senate, having, as he thinks, the effect of laying new 
taxes upon the people. He is for postponement. But it 
appears to me, with entire respect for the honorable 
member, that this is one of the cases least of all fit for 
postponement. It is not a measure, that, if omitted this 
year, may as well be done next. Before next year 
comes, those who need the relief may be beyond its 
reach. To postpone for another year, an annuity to 
persons already so aged ; an annuity, founded on the 
merit of services which were rendered half a century 
ago ; to postpone, for another whole year, a bill for the 
relief of deserving men, — proposing not aggrandizement 
but support ; not emolument but bread ; is a mode of 
disposing of it, in which I cannot concur. 

' But it is argued, in the next place, that the bill ought 
not to pass, because those who have spoken in its favor 
have placed it on different grounds. They have not 
agreed, it is said, whether it is to be regarded as a mat- 
ter of right, or matter of gratuity, or bounty. Is there 
weight in this objection ? If some think the grant ought 
to be made, as an exercise of judicious and well deserved 
bounty, does it weaken that ground that others think it 
founded in strict right, and that we cannot refuse it 
without manifest and palpable injustice ? Or, is it 
strange, that those who feel the legal justice of the claim, 
should address to those who do not feel it, considerations 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. I IT 

of a different character, but fit to have weight, and whicii 
they hope may have weight ? Nothing is more plain and 
^ natural than the course which this application has taken. 
The applicants, themselves, have placed it on the ground 
of equity and law. They advert to the resolve of 178(>, 
to the commutation of 1783, and to the mode of fund- 
ing the certificates. They stand on their contract. 
This is perfectly natural. On that basis they can wield 
the argument themselves. Of what is required by jus- 
tice and equity, they may reason even in their own case. 
■ But when the application is placed on different grounds ; 
when personal merit is to be urged, as the foundation of a 
just and economical bounty ; when services are to be men- 
tioned ; privations recounted ; pains enumerated ; and 
wounds and scars counted ; the discussion necessarily 
devolves to other hands. In all that we have seen from 
these officers in the various papers presented by them,, 
it cannot but be obvious to every one, how little is said 
of personal merit, and how exclusively they confine 
themselves to what they think their rights under the 
contract. 

' I must confess, sir, that principles of equity, which 
appear to me as plain as the sun, are urged by the me- 
morialists themselves with great caution, and much 
qualification. They advance their claim of right, \vith- 
out extravagance or overstraining ; and they submit it to 
the unimpassioned sense of justice of the Senate. 
^ 'For myself, I am free to say, that if it were a case 
between individual and individual, I think the officers 
would be entitled to relief in a court of equity. I may 
be mistaken, but such is my opinion. My reasons are, 
that I do not think they had a fair option, in regard to 
the commutation of half-pay. I do not think it was 
fairly in their power to accept or reject that offer. The 
condition they were in, and the situation of the country, 
compelled them to submit to whatever was proposed. 
In the next place it seems to me too evident to be de- 
.nied, that the five years' full pay was never really and 
fully made to them. A formal compliance with the 



118 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

terms of the contract, not a real compliance, is at most 
all that was ever done. For these reasons, I think, in 
an individual case, law and equity would reform the set- 
tlement. The conscience of chancery would deal with 
this case as with other cases of hard bargains ; of ad- 
vantages obtained by means of inequality of situation ; 
of acknowledged debts, compounded from necessity, or 
compromised without satisfaction. But, although such | 
would be my views of this claim, as between man and j 
man, I do not place my vote for this bill on that ground, j 
I see the consequence of admitting the claim, on the 
foundation of strict right. I see, at once, that, on that I 
ground, the heirs of the dead would claim, as well as the 
living ; and that other public creditors, as well as these 
holders of commutation certificates, would also have 
whereof to complain. I know it is altogether impossible 
to open the accounts of the revolution, and to think of *, 
doing justice to everybody. Much of suffering there I 
necessarily was, that can never be paid for ; much of 
loss that can never be repaired. I do not, therefore, for 
myself, rest my vote on grounds leading to any such 
consequences. I feel constrained to say, that we cannot 
do, and ought not to think of doing, everything in re- 
gard to revolutionary debts, which might be strictly 
right, if the whole settlement were now^ to be gone over 
anew. The honorable member from New York [Mr. 
Van Buren,] has stated, what I think the true ground of 
the bill. I regard it as an act of discreet and careful 
bounty, draw^n forth by meritorious services, and by per- 
sonal necessities. I cannot argue, in this case, with the 
technicality of my profession ; and because I do not feel 
able to allow the claim on the ground of mere right, 
I am not willing, for that reason, to nonsuit the pe- 
titioners, as not having made out their case. Suppose 
we admit, as I do, that on the ground of mere right, it 
would not be safe to allow it ; or, suppose that to be admit- 
ted for which others contend, that there is in the case 
no strict right upon which, under any circumstances, 
the claim could stand ; still, it does not follow^ that 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 119 

there is no reasonable and proper foundation for it, or 
that it ought not to be granted. If it be not founded on 
strict right, it is not to be regarded as being, for that 

' reason alone, an undeserved gratuity, or the effusion of 
mere good will. If that which is granted be not always 
granted on the ground of absolute right, it does not fol- 
low that it is granted from merely an arbitrary preference, 
or capricious beneficence. In most cases of this sort, 
mixed considerations prevail, and ought to prevail. Some 
consideration is due to the claim of right; much to that of 

. merit and service ; and more to that of personal necessity. 
If I knew that all the persons to be benefited by this bill 
were in circumstances of comfort and competency, I 
should not support it. But this I know to be otherwise. 
I cannot dwell with propriety, or delicacy, on this part 
of the case ; but I feel its force, and I yield to it. A 
single instance of affluence, or a hw cases where want 
does not tread close on those who are themselves tread- 
ing close on the borders of the grave, does not affect the 
general propriety and necessity of the measure. I would 
not draw this reason for the bill into too much promi- 
nence. We all know it exists ; and we may, I think, 
safely act upon it, without so discussing it as to wound, 
in old, but sensitive, and still throbbing bosoms, feelings 
which education inspired, the habits of military life cher- 
ished, and a just self-respect is still desirous to entertain. 
I confess I meet this claim, not only with a desire to do 
something in favor of these officers, but to do it in a 
manner indicative not only of decorum but of deep re- 
spect, — that respect which years, age, public service, 
patriotism, and broken fortune, command to spring up 
in every manly breast. 

' It is, then, sir, a mixed claim, of faith and public 
gratitude ; of justice and honorable bounty ; of merit 
and benevolence. It stands on the same foundation as 
that grant, which no one regrets, of which all are proud, 
made to the illustrious foreigner, who showed himself so 
early, and has proved himself so constantly, and zealously, 
a friend to our country. 



120 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

* But then, again, it is objected, that the militia have 
a claim upon us ; that they fought at the side of the 
regular soldiers, and ought to share in the country's re- 
membrance. It is known to be impossible, to carry the 
measure to such an extent as to embrace the militia ; 
and it is plain, too, that the cases are different. The 
bill, as I have already said, confines itself to those who 
served not occasionally, not temporarily, but permanently ; 
who allowed themselves to be counted on as men who 
were to see the contest through, last as long as it might ; 
and who have made the phrase of " listing during the 
war," a proverbial expression, signifying unalterable de- 
votion to our cause, through good fortune and ill for- 
tune, till it reaches its close. This is a plain distinc- 
tion ; and although perhaps I might wish to do more, I 
see good ground to stop here, for the present, if we must 
stop anywhere. The militia who fought at Concord, at 
Lexington, and at Bunker's Hill, have been alluded to, 
in the course of this debate, in terms of well-deserved 
praise. Be assured, sir, there could with difficulty be 
found a man, who drew his sword, or carried his mus- 
ket, at Concord, at Lexington, or Bunker's Hill, who 
would wish you to reject this bill. They might ask you 
to do more ; but never to refrain from doing this. Would 
to God they were assembled here, and had the fate of 
the bill in their own hands ! Would to God, the ques- 
tion of its passage was to be put to them ! They would 
affirm it, with a unity of acclamation that would rend the 
roof of the capitol. 

* I support the measure, then, Mr. President, because 
I think it a proper and judicious exercise of w^ell-merited 
national bounty. I think, too, the general sentiment of 
my own constituents, and of the country, is in favor of 
it. I believe the member from North Carolina, himself, 
admitted, that an increasing desire, that something should 
be done for the revolutionary officers, manifested itself 
in the community. The bill will make no immediate or 
great draught on the treasury. It will not derange the 
finances. If I had supposed that the state of the treasury 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 121 

would have been urged against the passage of this bill, I 
should not have voted for the Delaware break-water, be- 
cause that might have been commenced next year ; nor 
for the whole of the sums which have been granted for 
fortifications; for their advancement, with a little more 
or little less of rapidity, is not of the first necessity. But 
the present case is urgent. What we do, should be done 
quickly. 

* Mr. President, allow me to repeat, that neither the 
subject, nor the occasion, is an ordinary one. Our own 
fellow-citizens do not so consider it ; the world will not 
so regard it, A few deserving soldiers are before us, 
who served their country faithfully through a seven years' 
war. That was a civil war. It was commenced on prin- 
ciple, and sustained by every sacrifice, on the great 
ground of civil liberty. They fought bravely, and bled 
freely. The cause succeeded, and the country triumph- 
ed. But the condition of things did not allow that coun- 
try, sensible as it was to their services and merits, to do 
them the full justice which it desired. It could not en- 
tirely fulfill its engagements. The army was to be dis- 
banded ; but it was unpaid. It was to lay down its own 
power ; but there was no government with adequate 
power to perform what had been promised to it. In this 
critical moment, what is its conduct ? Does it disgrace 
its high character 1 Is temptation able to seduce it ? 
Does it speak of righting itself? Does it undertake to 
redress its own wrongs, by its own sword ? Does it lose 
its patriotism in its deep sense of injury and injustice 1 
Does military ambition cause its integrity to swerve ? 
Far, far, otherwise. 

' It had faithfully served and saved the country ; and 
to that country it now referred, with unhesitating confi- 
dence, its claim and its complaints. It laid down its 
arms with alacrity ; it mingled itself with the mass of 
the community ; and it waited till, in better times, and 
under a new government, its services might be rewarded, 
and the promises made to it fulfilled. Sir, this example 
is worth more, far more, to the cause of civil liberty, 

11 



122 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

than this bill will cost us. We can hardly recur to it 
too often, or dwell on it too much, for the honor of our 
country, and of its defenders. Allow me to say again, 
that meritorious service in civil war is worthy of peculiar 
consideration ; not only because there is, in such war, 
usually less power to restrain irregularities, but because, 
also, they expose all prominent actors in them to differ- 
ent kinds of danger. It is rebellion, as well as war. 
Those who engage in it must look not only to the dan- 
gers of the field, but to confiscation also and attainder, 
and ignominious death. With no efficient and settled 
government, either to sustain or to control them, and 
with every sort of danger before them, it is great merit 
to have conducted with fidelity to the country, under 
every discouragement on the one hand, and with uncon- 
querable bravery towards the common enemy on the 
other. So, sir, the officers and soldiers of the revolu- 
tionary army did conduct. 

' I would not, and do not underrate the services or the 
sufferings of others. I know well, that in the revolu- 
tionary contest, all made sacrifices, and all endured suf- 
ferings ; as well those who paid for service, as those who 
performed it. I know, that, in the records of all the 
little municipalities of New England, abundant proof 
exists of the zeal with which the cause was espoused, 
and the sacrifices with which it was cheerfully maintained. 
I have often there read, with absolute astonishment, the 
taxes, the contributions, the heavy subscriptions, often 
provided for by disposing of the absolute necessaries of 
life ; by which enlistments were procured, and food and 
clothing furnished. It would be, sir, to these same mu- 
nicipalities, to these same little patriotic councils of rev- 
olutionary times, that I should now look, with most as- 
sured confidence, for a hearty support of what this bill 
proposes. There, the scale of revolutionary merit stands 
high. There are still those living, who speak of the 
19th of April, and the 17th of June, without thinking it 
necessary to add the year. These men, one and all, 
would rejoice to find that those who stood by the country 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 123 

bravely, through the doubtful and perilous struggle which 
conducted it to independence and glory, had not been 
forgotten in the decline and close of life. 

' The objects, then, sir, of the proposed bounty, are 
most worthy and deserving objects. The services which 
they rendered, were in the highest degree useful and 
important. The country to which they rendered them, 
is great and prosperous. They have lived to see it glo- 
rious ; let them not live to see it unkind. For me, I 
can give'^'them but my vote, and my prayers ; and I give 
them both with my whole heart.' 

In May, 18*28, a tariff bill was brought before the 
Senate of the United States, and Mr. Webster found 
himself under the necessity of giving some reasons for 
the vote he was about to give on the occasion, as it 
might seem not to be in accordance with his vote on 
the tariff in 1824. At that time, Mr. Webster rep- 
resented a commercial district, and a large majority of 
his constituents were opposed to the restrictions on 
trade which that bill contained. He urged every ar- 
gument in his power against it, but it was passed. At 
that period, he declared that if the bill did pass, there 
would be no alternative for New England, but to con- 
sider the course and policy of the Government as set- 
tled and fixed, and to act accordingly. The law did 
pass, and millions of dollars were invested in manufac- 
tures from necessity. The merchants came to this 
reluctantly, but when once engaged in manufacturing, 
this became as dear an interest as the mercantile, and 
they were as anxious to protect it. He conceived that 
if the system must be pursued, and this seemed deter- 



124 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

mined upon by a majority of votes in Congress^ he 
thought that those driven into it by the acts of 1816 
and 18:24, should have some protection, such as they 
deemed necessary, particularly those who had gone 
into the manufacture of woollens, on which, as a new 
business, the strictest calculations could not be made. 
Mr. Webster weighed the subject thoroughly, and took 
his course with its responsibility. It cannot be denied 
but that some of his fonner friends, who had still con- 
fined themselves entirely to commerce, were, for a 
season, disaffected towards him ; not offended, but 
hurt ; not inimical, but cool. This was the most trying 
situation he had ever been placed in, for among the 
merchants opposed to the tariff, might be numbered 
some of his earliest and best friends. This, he reo:ret- 
ted ; but being conscious of having done right, he kept 
on, without sufferins: himself to be disturbed at anvthina; 
said upon the subject ; and he knew also his constitu- 
ents, that they were of that class of men who would 
correct their impressions, when all his reasons for voting 
as he did were fully understood by them. In this ex- 
citement he returned to Boston : a sight of their favor- 
ite was enough to restore all things with this people : 
and those who were delighted, and those who had 
complained, united, to give him a dinner, as a mark of 
their high estimation of his integrity and independence. 
This was, of course, accepted ; and he met them and 
gave them a speech explanatory of his conduct. They 
were satisfied, and his popularity remained undimin- 



LIFE or WEBSTER. 125 

ished. This dinner must have been pecuHarly accept- 
able to Mr. Webster, as it was another proof that his 
constituents were intelligent and magnanimous ; and 
governed, (if now and then touched by that caprice, 
so common in free communities,) by high and proper 
principles. Envy thought she had found a want of 
consistency in this statesman, and seized the circum- 
stances of the tariff to diminish his influence in the 
nation ; but this expression of confidence, connected 
with the treatment he has met with in Massachusetts " 
ever since, answered and refuted those who had clam- 
ored, and vainly hoped to prostrate him every where, 
by showing that he had become powerless in the house 
of his friends. Such circumstances try men's depth, 
breadth and weight of character. Under such charges 
of inconsistency, a little man sinks, for he is generally 
so entirely ' frightened from his propriety,' that, in the 
endeavor to exculpate himself, he falls into greater dif- 
ficulties. Mr. Webster stated the reasons for what he 
had done ; a reason all had a right to ask, but he 
made no apologies, he had no palliation to offer. There 
were his acts ; there were his speeches : judge for 
yourselves, was the appeal, and to such a body it was 
all that was required. Mr. Hayne, in his speech on 
Mr. Foote's resolution, indirectly revived the charge ; 
hear Mr. Webster's answer to that insinuation. 

' As well as I recollect the course of his remarks, the 
honorable gentlemen next recurred to the subject of the 
tariff. He did not doubt the word must be of unpleas- 
ant sound to me, and proceeded, with an effort, neither 
11* 



126 LIFE OF WEBSTEE. 

new, nor attended with new success, to involve me and | 
my votes in inconsistency and contradiction. I am hap- 
py the honorable gentleman has furnished me an oppor- 
tunity of a timely remark or two on that subject. I was 
glad he approached it, for it is a question I enter upon 
without fear from any body. The strenuous toil of the 
gentleman has been to raise an inconsistency, between 
my dissent to the tariff in 1824, and my vote in 1828. 
It is labor lost. He pays undeserved compliment to my 
speech in 1824 ; but this is to raise me high, that my 
fall, as he would have it, in 1828, may be more signal. 
Sir, there was no fall at all. Between the ground I stood 
on in 1824, and that I took in 1828, there was not only 
no precipice, but no declivity. It was a change of posi- 
tion, to meet new circumstances, but on the same level. 
A plain tale explains the whole matter. In 1816, I had 
not acquiesced in the tariff, then supported by South 
Carolina. To some parts of it, especially, I felt and 
expressed great repugnance. I held the same opinions 
in 1821, at the meeting in Faneuil Hall, to which the 
gentleman has alluded. I said then, and say now, that, 
as an original question, the authority of Congress to ex- 
ercise the revenue power, with direct reference to the 
protection of manufactures, is a questionable authority, 
far more questionable, in my judgment, than the power 
of internal improvements. I must confess, sir, that, in 
one respect, some impression has been made on my 
opinions lately. Mr. Madison's publication has put the 
power in a very strong light. He has placed it, I must 
acknowledge, upon groundsofconstruction'and argument, 
which seem impregnable. But even if the power were 
doubtful, on the face of the constitution itself, it had been 
assumed and asserted in the first revenue law ever passed 
under that same constitution ; and, on this ground, as a 
matter settled by cotemporaneous practice, I had re- 
frained from expressing the opinion that the tariff laws 
transcended constitutional limits, as the gentleman sup- 
poses. What I did say at Faneuil Hall, as far as I now 
remember, was, that this was originally matter of doubt- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 127 

ful construction. The gentleman himself, I suppose, 
thinks there is no doubt about it, and that the laws are 
plainly against the constitution. Mr. Madison's letters, 
already referred to, contain, in my judgment, by far 
the most able exposition extant of this part of the consti- 
tution. He has satisfied me, so far as the practice of the 
government had left it an open question. 

' With a great majority of the Representatives of Mas- 
sachusetts, I voted against the tariff of 1824. My rea- 
sons were then given, and I will not now repeat them. 
But, notwithstanding our dissent, the great States of New 
York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Kentucky, went for the 
bill, in almost unbroken column, and it passed. Con- 
o-ress and the President sanctioned it, and it became the 
law of the land. What, then, were we to do ? Our 
only option was, either to fall in with this settled course 
of public policy, and accommodate ourselves to it as well 
as we could, or to embrace the South Carolina doctrine, 
and talk of nullifying the statute by State interference. 

' This last alternative did not suit our principles, and, 
of course, we adopted the former. In 1827, the subject 
came again before Congress, on a proposition favorable 
to wool and woollens. We looked upon the system of 
protection as being fixed and settled. The law of 1824 
remained. It had gone into full operation, and, in re- 
gard to some objects intended by it, perhaps most of 
them, had produced all its expected effects. No man 
proposed to repeal it ; no man attempted to renew the 
general contest on its principle. But, owing to subse- 
quent and unforeseen occurrences, the benefit intended 
by it to wool and woollen fabrics had not been realized. 
Events, not known here when the law passed, had taken 
place, which defeated its object in that particular res- 
pect. A measure was accordingly brought forward to 
meet this precise deficiency ; to remedy this particular 
defect. It was limited to wool and woollens. Was ever 
anything more reasonable ? If the policy of the tariff 
laws had become established in principle, as the perma- 
nent policy of the government, should they not be re- 



128 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

vised and amended, and made equal, like other laws, as 
exigencies should arise, or justice require 1 Because 
we had doubted about adopting the system, were we to 
refuse to cure its manifest defects, after it become adopt- 
ed, and when no one attempted its repeal ? And this, 
sir, is the inconsistency so much bruited, I had voted 
against the tariff of 1824 — but it passed ; and in 1827 
and 1828, I voted to amend it, in a point essential to the 
interest of my constituents. Where is the inconsistency ? 
Could I do otherwise ? Sir, does political consistency 
consist in always giving negative votes ? Does it require 
of a public man to refuse to concur in amending laws, 
because they passed against his consent ? Having voted 
against the tariff originally, does consistency demand 
that I should do all in my power to maintain an unequal 
tariff, burdensome to my own constituents, in many res- 
pects, favorable in none 1 To consistency of that sort, 
I lay no claim. — And there is another sort to which I lay 
as little — and that is, a kind of consistency by which 
persons feel themselves as much bound to oppose a pro- 
position after it has become a law of the land, as before. 
' The bill of 1827, limited, as I have said, to the sin- 
gle object in which the tariff of 1824 had manifestly 
failed in its effect, passed the House of Representatives, 
but was lost here. We had then the act of 1828. I 
need not recur to the history of a measure so recent. 
Its enemies spiced it with whatsoever they thought would 
render it distasteful ; its friends took it, druorored as it 
was. Vast amounts of property, many millions, had 
been invested in manufactures, under the inducements 
of the act of 1824, Events called loudly, as I thought, 
for further regulation to secure the degree of protection 
intended by that act. I was disposed to vote for such 
regulation, and desired nothing more ; but certainly was 
not to be bantered out of my purpose by a threatened 
augmentation of duty on molasses, put into the bill for 
the avowed purpose of making it obnoxious. The vote 
may have been right or wrong, wise or unwise ; but it is 
little less than absurd to allege against it an inconsis- 
tency with opposition to the former law. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 129 

* Sir, as to the general subject of the tariff, I have 
little now to say. Another opportunity may be present- 
ed. I remarked the other day, that this policy did not 
begin with us in New England ; and yet, sir. New En- 
gland is charged, with vehemence, as being favorable, 
or charged with equal vehemence, as being unfavorable 
to the tariff policy, just as best suits the time, place, and 
occasion for making some charge against her. The 
credulity of the public has been put to its extreme capa- 
city of false impression, relative to her conduct, in this 
particular. Through all the South, during the late con- 
test, it was New England policy, and a New England 
administration, that was afflicting the country with a 
tariff beyond all endurance ; while on the other side of 
the Alleghany, even the act of 182S itself, the very sub- 
limated essence of oppression, according to southern 
opinions, was pronounced to be one of those blessings, 
for which the West was indebted to the " generous 
South." 

* With large investments in manufacturing establish- 
ments, and many and various interests connected with 
and dependent on them, it is not to be expected that 
New England, any more than other portions of the coun- 
try, will now consent to any measure, destructive or 
highly dangerous. The duty of the government, at the 
present moment, would seem to be to preserve, not to 
destroy ; to maintain the position which it has assumed ; 
and, for one, I shall feel it an indispensable obligation to 
hold it steady, as far as in my power, to that degree of 
protection which it has undertaken to bestow. — No more 
of the tariff.' 

A slight, accidental circumstance In the life of Mr. 
W^ebster, will show how necessary it is for a statesman 
to be thoroughly acquainted with the whole history of 
his country to the greatest minuteness. In the summer 
of lS-23, Mi\ Webster visited the island of Nantucket^ 



130 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

upon professional business, but was so much struck 
with the people and their place of residence, that he 
took pains to get all the information about the place 
and inhabitants he could readily find. He examined 
the island, apparently only a mound of sand, to the 
amount of twenty-three or four thousand acres, without 
forests, or even a grove to be seen ; and only a few 
single trees which seemed to have been planted in 
doubt, and watched by care, without much faith in 
their growth. Yet, on this seemingly barren island, 
he ascertained that there were fifteen thousand sheep, 
three or four hundred cows, and one hundred and fifty 
horses, that w^andered where they pleased from one 
end to the other of this great pasture, summer and 
winter, spring and fall, and all thrived on the scanty 
grass which sprang up above the sand. 

The inhabitants of this island he found a shrewd, 
intelligent people, amounting to nearly eight thousand 
souls, bearing all the strong marks of the primitive 
simplicity of their ancestors ; and unhke, in many 
respects, any other maritime people that history has 
made us acquainted with. The island was settled in 
1659 by emigrations from the towns of Salisbury and 
Amesbury in the county of Essex, in Massachusetts. 
Many of those settlers who came to the island the 
second or third years after the proprietors (twenty- 
seven in number) had taken possession of the island ; 
and had fled from those towns from fear of the emissa- 
ries of Charles the Second, who pursued the friends and 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 131 

adherents of Hugh Peters with unrelenting severity, 
many of whom had come to Sahsbury for security, but 
thought it wiser to take a less noted place. The island 
had been the favorite abode of a very large tribe of 
Indians, which had been carried off by a sweeping 
sickness that preceded the coming of the pilgrims. 
The English emigrants, unfortunately, in their hatred 
to a wilderness, felled the forest trees in order to extend 
their crops of English grain and Indian com ; but this 
act of clearing all smoothly, in the course of half a 
century, destroyed the island for tillage ; for, in the 
long storms, the sand was blown across the island, and 
the arable soil was so deeply covered with those dancing 
atoms, that agricultural pursuits were nearly abandoned, 
and the inhabitants looked to the ocean for their sup- 
port. At the close of the seventeenth, or at the com- 
mencement of the eighteenth century, these islanders 
began the whale fishery, which had been carried on at 
Cape Cod for some time before. This was done in 
boats of a shape that has given the name to a class 
of boats now used for despatch, called ' whale boats. ^ 
The whales became scarce along the shore, and larger 
boats were built to pursue them both north and south. 
In the wars the English and their colonies had with 
France these islanders were exposed, and their busi* 
ness interrupted by privateers ; in fact, they were often 
annoyed by the buccaneers in a previous age ; but, 
notwithstanding every difficulty, the war of our revolu- 
tion found them rich and flourishing. 



132 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

At this tiniG) 1775, they had reached the coast of 
Brazil, and were successful in taking whales there. 
In 1791, they doubled Cape Horn, and pursued the 
sperm-whale into the Pacific, near the equator, many 
years with success. Within ten years past, finding 
their prey diminishing in numbers on their old cruising 
ground, and governed a little by that spirit of adven- 
ture, for w^hich they not only acquired a reputation, 
but great wealth, pushed westward and circumnavigated 
the globe, in the ordinary course of their business. 
Mr. Webster was delighted with the government and 
economy of a whale-ship ; powers, duties, profits, 
honors, all properly apportioned, and yet admirably 
conjoined and brought to act with great energy and 
effect. If one of their whale-ships does not bear the 
majesty of national strength and glory around the globe, 
it shows to every nation in every sea, what intelligence, 
enterprise, industry and perseverance can effect. The 
people abroad and the people at home are one. No 
men are more fond of home than these voyagers ; they 
come back to their sterile sands as to an Eden, for there 
they left all they held dear to their hearts ; it is the 
sweet Argos from whence they sailed for the golden 
fleece ; and they obtained it without robbing any ol 
their fellow men. 

The people of Nantucket are intelligent, for these 
whale-ships for nearly half the time while on their 
voyage are, in truth, Lyceums, where mathematics 
and natural history and general knowledge are taught. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 133 

The log-books and journals of these whalers are well 
kept ; the hand-writing in these books is good, and the 
reckonings admirably made, and every one does some- 
thing towards making a minute history of the voyage. 

On the island of Nantucket, he met with a philoso- 
pher, mathematician, and an astronomer, in Walter 
Folger, worthy to be ranked among the great discov- 
erers in science. His ancestors, for a long line, on the 
island, have been distinguished for their knowledge of 
mathematics. Folger has invented a telescope, second 
fonly to Herschell's in power. This visit took deep 
hold on the feelings of Mr. Webster ; it made a new 
item in his historical treasures. 

Not long after this tour to Nantucket, the people of 
that island petitioned Congress for a breakwater, or 
rather for an appropriation for a survey of the island 
and the waters washing it ; which at length settled 
into an appropriation for deepening the channel to the 
principal harbor of this island. For ages, all the large 
vessels had to unload wholly or principally before they 
could be brought to the wharves. This probably would 
not have been brought about, if the information which 
Mr. Webster had obtained on his visit, had not in his 
forcible manner been concentrated and given to the 
Senate. To them, it was as novel as an Arabian tale; 
and as they knew he never spoke without day and 
date, words and figures, for proof, it satisfied all ; the 
appropriation was voted for, and the work is going on 
with success. 

12 



134 LIFE OF WEBSTER. I 

It is the duty of all statesmen to make themselves 
acquainted not only with the general interests of the 
community in which they live ; but also of the particu- | 
lar interests of each section of it, in order that they 
may assist when they should, and how they should. 
It happens not to a few of them, as Caius Marius 
alleged that it did to the Patrician generals of the 
Roman army : they first procured the command of 
armies, and then began to study the art of war. It 
has not been so with Mr. Webster ; he has studied not 
only every general interest and principle, but every 
minute relation and bearing of those interests in the 
nation ; and hence he has made himself a statesman 
worthy of the country ; no lines, either of Mason, 
Dixon, or Boone, ever bounded his course of duties. 
He reasons for the country, and watches for the inter- 
ests of each and all ; for the raftsmen of the Penobscot, 
or for the boatmen of the Mississippi ; for the merchant 
of the seaboard, or the manufacturer of the interior ; 
nor has he yet ever given to party those mental ener- 
gies, which were meant for mankind. He can say,^, 
with justice and truth, what Mirabeau said of himself; I 
*I have been, I am, I will be to my grave, the man 
of public liberty, the man of the constitution,' which . 
extends to all, deals equal favor to all, protects all, and 
cannot be infringed without injuring all. 

The intelligent mechanics of Boston having formed 
an association, called the Boston Mechanics^ Institution, 
applied to Mr. Webster to give them a lecture at the 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 135 

opening of the course in November, 1828, It might 
be thought by some statesmen, and perhaps by some 
scientific men, that Mr. Webster's course of education 
had not prepared him for such a task ; but it must be 
remembered, that he is a lawyer of more than twenty 
•^^ears standing at the bar, and all this time has been in 
extensive practice in the highest courts of the country, 
in which not only constitutional questions are discussed, 
but mercantile transactions, and questions requiring 
broad views of almost every subject; and none requir- 
ing more information than some of those important 
• rials upon patent rights. The lawyer, to do his duty 
to his client, must be acquainted with the principles of 
the mechanic arts, and sometimes also with the most 
minute details of them. Mr. Webster has been engaged 
in many of these patent causes, and to do his duty has 
made himself master of the laws of motion and the 
properties of matter far more accurately than any gen- 
eral reading would have done, for he has had often to 
consult with the inventor, perhaps enter the workshop 
and see every operation performed, in order to be able 
to explain these things to courts and juries who pass 
upon them. Mr. Webster was pleased to find such an 
institution springing up in his own city, and was willing 
to lend his aid for its success. These institutions, he 
was well aware, refine the taste and strengthen the 
intellectual powers of each member of the firaternity. 
They are stimulants to exertion, for each one is unwill- 
o; to be thought inferior to his neighbor, and he stu- 



l^D 



136 LirE OF WEBSTER, 

dies to be his equals, at least, and wisely thinks the 
ambition harmless, if he strive for the mastery in intel- 
lectual pursuits. Mind brought in amicable collision 
with mind produces scintillations of thought that do not 
expire as they are struck out, but increase to a perma- 
nent light. In most intellects there are seeds of true 
taste, and frequently of creative or imitative genius. 
Wanned by honest emulation and spurred on by gener- 
ous rivalry, the younger portions of such associations 
make great exertions to obtain knowledge, and when 
encouraged by their seniors are ready to communicate 
it. Already in some other parts of our country, me- 
chanic associations have grown into mechanic institutes, 
in which lectures are given on various branches of the 
arts and sciences. When a practical artist becomes 
scientific, he will soon find language to convey his 
thoughts, if he finds it difficult at fii-st to get words to 
suit him. When these institutes are once established 
they seldom retrograde ; there is an honest pride in such 
bodies, that will not suffer them to fall off in their exer- 
tions. He who feels the pride of being an instructer, wilt 
always be an indefatigable student himself. Youthful 
aspirants for the lecturer's chair occasionally will come 
forward in order to distinguish themselves. By this, the 
arts will be benefited, and information difRised among 
those who are not artists. If eloquence of a high order 
is not to be obtained in a lecture room, good plain 
speaking may be, and this is more valuable. Readi- 
ness and fluency follow clearness of perception, and 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 137 

that order and method necessary in conveying our 
thoughts on the laws of motion and power. The time, 
we trust, is not far distant when we shall see the young 
citizen pass from the workshop to the lecture-room as 
a matter of course in his education ; and when the art 
and mystery of a trade will be taught him with the 
principles on which it is founded. It will not be ques- 
tioned, that, if such institutes were generally formed, 
their influence would be generally felt in a moral point 
of view. Many hours that are now spent by the 
young mechanic in light amusements, by way of pre- 
paring himself for arduous labors, would be devoted to 
science, or to letters, so necessarily connected with it. 
Thus time would be saved ; money would be saved ; 
and sometimes, perhaps, reputation would be saved ; and 
most certainly, moral and intellectual weight would be 
gained ; and weight of character is not gained in a day ; 
it is made up by the honest occupation of many years 
in youth and manhood, and can be preserved only by 
the sound exercise of the understanding. This lecture 
should be preserved as a model for compositions of this 
kind ; not that many would reach the same standard, 
but the imitation would be well. The model should 
be far above what we expect to reach. The language 
is just such as it should be on such a subject, and the 
style of the composition precisely what Bacon would 
have used had he lived to have been, with his great 
senius, imbued with modem taste. There is no in- 
sinuating introduction, no appeal to the candor of his 
12* 



133 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

hearers, and all that unmeaning parade of courtesy ; but 
after a sentence or two, he enters directly into his sub- 
ject, and brings forward his topics without ceremony. 
He discusses motion as applied to change of place, to 
animal life^ the earth, the ocean, the air, to all the 
physical objects which surround us, and is the exhaust- 
less fountain from whence philosophy is drawn. He 
proceeds to the grand distinction of man, his intellectual 
powers, and shows that his formation was fitted to his 
mind, for if he had not that wonderful instrument the 
hand, he could not avail himself of his gifts ; and that 
the brute creation, if raised to the equality of reasoning 
man, could do but little without such an instrument to 
assist them. He adverted to the ancients, and com- 
pared their knowledge with that of modern times. The 
descriptive history and effects of the mechanical powers 
and arts were his next topic, and in this he was most 
happy. The useful subject, architecture, came also 
under his consideration, and he pursued it in all its 
forms ; but leaving all other parts of this fine lecture, 
we extract that which relates to the mechanical arts. 

' In the useful and practical arts, many inventions and 
contrivances, to the production of which the degree of 
ancient knowledge would appear to us to have been 
adequate, and which seem quite obvious, are yet of late 
origin. The application of water, for example, to turn 
a mill, is a thing not known to have been accomplished 
at all in Greece, and is not supposed to have been 
attempted at R.ome, till in or near the age of Augustus. 
The production of the same effect by wind, is a still later 
invention. It dates only in the seventh century of our 



Life of webster. 139 

era. The propulsion of the saw, by any other power 
than that of the arm, is treated as a novelty in England, 
so late as in the middle of the sixteenth century. The 
Bishop of Ely, Ambassador from the Clueen of England 
to the Pope, says, " he saw, at Lyons, a saw-mill driven 
with an upright wheel, and the water that makes it go is 
gathered into a narrow trough, which delivereth the 
same water to the wheels. This wheel hath a piece of 
timber put to the axletree end, like the handle of a brock, 
(a hand organ,) and fastened to the end of the saw, which 
being turned with the force of water, hoisteth up and 
down the saw, that it continually eateth in, and the 
handle of the same is kept in a rigall of wood, from 
severing. Also the timber lieth, as it were upon a ladder, 
which is brought by little and little to the saw by another 
vice." From this description of the primitive power-saw, 
it would seem that it was probably fast only at one end, 
and that the brock and rigall performed the part of the 
arm, in the common use of the hand-saw. 

' It must always have been a very considerable object 
for men to possess, or obtain, the power of raising water, 
otherwise than by mere manual labor. Yet nothing like 
the common suction-pump has been found amoag rude 
nations. It has arrived at its present state only by slow 
and doubtful steps of improvement; and, indeed, in that 
present state, however obvious and unattractive, it is 
somethincr of an abstruse and refined invention. It was 
unknown in China, until Europeans visited the "Celestial 
Empire ;" and is still unknown in other parts of Asia, 
beyond the pale of European settlements, or the reach of 
European communication. The Greeks and Romans 
are supposed to have been ignorant of it, in the early 
times of their history ; and it is usually said to have 
come from Alexandria, where physical science was much 
cultivated by the Greek school, under the patronage of 
the Ptolemies. 

* These few and scattered historical notices, gentle- 
men, of important inventions, hare been introduced only 
for the purpose of suggesting that there is much which 



140 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

is both curious and instructive in the history of mechan- 
ics ; and that many things which to us, in our state of 
knowledge, seem so obvious as that we should think they 
would at once force themselves on men's adoption, have, 
nevertheless, been accomplished slowly and by painful 
efforts. 

♦ But if the history of the progress of the mechanical 
arts be interesting, still more so, doubtless, would be the 
exhibition of their present state, and a full display of the 
extent to which they are now carried. This field is 
much too wide even to be entered, on this occasion. 
The briefest outline even, would exceed its limits ; and 
the whole subject will regularly fall to hands much more 
able to sustain it. The slightest glance, however, must 
convince us that mechanical power and mechanical skill, 
as they are now exhibited in Europe and America, mark 
an epoch in human history, worthy of all admiration. 
Machinery is made to perform what has formerly been 
the toil of human hands, to an extent that astonishes the 
most sanguine, with a degree of power to which no 
number of human arms is equal, and with such precision 
and exactness as almost to suggest the notion of reason 
and intelligence in the machines themselves. Every 
natural agent is put unrelentingly to the task. The 
winds work, the waters work, the elasticity of metals 
work : gravity is solicited into a thousand new forms of 
action : levers are multiplied upon levers : wheels re- 
volve on the peripheries of other wheels ; the saw and J 
the plane are tortured into an accommodation to new ' 
uses, and, last of all, with inimitable power, and " with 
whirlwind sound," comes the potent agency of steam. 
In comparison with the past, what centuries of improve 
ment has this single agent comprised, in the short com- 
pass of fifty years ! Everywhere practicable, everywhere 
efficient, it has an arm a thousand times stronger than 
that of Hercules, and to which human ingenuity is ca- 
pable of fitting a thousand times as many hands as 
belonged to Briareus. Steam is found, in triumphant 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 141 

operation, on the seas ; and under the influence of its 
strong propulsion, the gallant ship, 

" Against the wind, against the tide 
Still steadies J with an upright keel." 

It is on the rivers, and the boatman may repose on his 
oars ; it is in highways, and begins to exert itself along 
the courses of land conveyance ; it is at the bottom of 
mines, a thousand feet below the earth's surface ; it is 
in the mill, and in the workshops of the trades. It rows, 
it pumps, it excavates, it carries,^ it draws, it lifts, it ham- 
mers, it spins, it weaves, it prints. It seems to say to 
men, at least to the class of artisans, " Leave off your 
manual labor, give over your bodily toil ; bestow but 
your skill and reason to the directing of my power, and 
I will bear the toil, — with no muscle to grow weary, no 
nerve to relax, no breast to feel faintness." What fur- 
ther improvements may still be made in the use of this 
astonishing power, it is impossible to know, and it were 
vain to conjecture. What we do know, is, that it has 
most essentially altered the face of affairs, and that no 
visible limit yet appears beyond which its progress is 
seen to be impossible. If its power were now to be an- 
nihilated, if we were to miss it on the water and in the 
mills, it would seem as if we were going back to rude 
ages. 

' This society then, gentlemen, is instituted for the 
purpose of further and further applying science to the 
arts, at a time when there is much of science to be ap- 
plied. Philosophy and the Mathematics have attained 
to high degrees, and still stretch their wings, like the 
eagle. Chymistry, at the same time, acting in another 
direction, has made equally important discoveries, ca- 
pable of a direct application to the purposes of life. 
Here again, within so short a period as the lives of some 
of us, almost all that is known has been learned. And 
while there is this aggregate of science, already vast, 
but still rapidly increasing, offering itself to the inge- 
nuity of mechanical contrivance, there is a correspond- 



142 ' LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

ing deiiiand for every work and invention of art, — pro- 
duced by the wants of a rich, an enterprising and an 
elegant age. Associations like this, therefore, have ma- 
terials to work upon, ends to work for, and encourage- 
ment to work.' 

On his return from Washington in the spring of 
/ 1829, Mr. Webster had the misfortune to lose his 
brother, the Hon. Ezekiel Webster, a Counsellor at 
Law in the State of New Hampshire. His death was 
sudden and remarkable ; he fell and expired while in 
the midst of an argument at the bar, without a sigh or 
a struggle. No event could have been more unex- 
pected by the public, for he was one of those models 
for a picture of health and strength, that Salvator Rosa 
would have drawn in his mountain scenery, if he had 
wished to exhibit a commander able to bear the fa- 
tigues and duties of council and of war. He was 
lamented by his professional brethren, and sincerely 
mourned by the community at large. 

Ezekiel Webster was two or three years older than 
his brother Daniel, but did not graduate until three 
years after him, in 1804. In college, he was the first 
in his class ; his intellect was of a very high order ; its 
capacity was general, for he was able to comprehend 
the abstruse and difficult, and at the same time to enjoy 
the tasteful and the elegant. He was distinguished for 
classical literature. His knowledge of Greek, particu- 
larly, was beyond that of his contemporaries in college ; 
and this is almost an unqualified proof of taste, when 
the study is pursued from a real fondness for the Ian- 



LIFE OP WEBSTER. 143 

guage, and not merely for the pride of learning, or for 
the rewards of superiority. 

His knowledge of English literature was deep and 
extensive, for he had not skimmed over books as a 
matter of amusement, but he looked into them as a 
man of mind, who intends to draw lessons from all he 
reads. Few men among our scholars knew so much 
of the English poets as he did, and he valued them 
as he should have done, as philosophers and painters 
of human nature, from whom much knowledge may be 
obtained to illustrate and adorn what duller minds have 
put into maxims and rules. 

He made himself master of the law as a science, 
and become well acquainted with its practice in his 
native State. He went up to first principles with the 
ease and directness of a great mind, and separated at 
once that which was casual and local, from that which 
is permanent and founded on the basis of moral justice 
and the nature of man. There seemed no effort in 
anything he did ; all was natural and easy, as if intui- 
tive. There was nothing about him of that little bust- 
ling smartness so often seen in ordinary persons, striving 
to perform something to attract the attention of the little 
world around them. 

His general information was not only extensive, but 
laid up in excellent order, ready for use. He was 
steadily engaged in the duties of his profession, but 
never seemed hurried or confused in his business. He 
took all calmly and quietly. He did nothing for pa- 



144 LIFE OP WEBSTER. 

rade or show, or mere effect, nor did he speak to the 
audience while addressing the court and jury. His 
life was passed in habits of industry and perseverance ; 
and his accumulations of wealth and knowledge were 
regular and rapid. From the commencement of his 
life as a reasoning being, responsible for his own actions 
to the close of it, he preserved the most perfect con- 
sistency of character ; no paroxysms of passion, no 
eccentricities of genius were ever found in him. His 
equanimity was only equalled by his firmness of pur- 
pose. In this he was most conspicuous ; he thought 
leisurely and cautiously, and having made up his mind, 
he was steadfast and immovable. Having no hasty or 
premature thoughts, he seldom had occasion to change 
his opinions, and was, therefore, free from those mor- 
tifying repentances, so common to superior minds of 
warmer temperament. By honesty of purpose and 
soundness of judgment he kept a just balance in weigh- 
ing all matters before him. All this firmness and equa- 
nimity, and other virtues, seemed constitutional, and 
not made up by those exertions so necessary to most 
frail beings, who intend to support a character for 
steady habits. He was blessed with a frame that felt 
few or no infirmities, such as weaken the nerves and 
bring down the mighty in intellect to those degrading 
superstitions that stain the brightness of genius and 
destroy the high hopes of immortal beings, and make 
them slaves to darkness and absurdity. He suffered 
no moral or mental weakness in his whole path of 



LIFE Ot WEBSTER. 145 

duty, for his constitution, until within a short time of 
his death, exhibited a sound mind in a sound body, 
and neither appeared essentially injured or decayed, to 
the hour of his exit from this world. 

He never sought public honors, nor literary or 
political distinctions, and therefore had none of those 
throes and agonies so common to vaulting ambition; 
not that he declined all public trusts, when he was 
conscious that he could do any good to his fellow-men. 
He was several years a member of one or other branch 
of the Legislature of New Hampshire, and served as a 
trustee of Dartmouth College. He was at different 
times put up for a member of Congress, but it was at 
periods when his friends thought that his name would 
do some good to his political party, as the members of 
Congress in New Hampshire are chosen by a general 
ticket ; but when they were decidedly in power, he 
would seldom or never consent to be a candidate. 
This was much to be regretted, for he was admirably 
calculated for public life by his extensive knowledge 
and incorruptible integrity. He would have been a 
first-rate speaker on the floor of Congress. His elo- 
quence was impressive and commanding. There was 
in his delivery a slight defect in the labial sounds — in 
the familiar use of his voice, which was rather pleasant 
to the listener than otherwise, for it was a proof of a 
natural manner ; but warmed by his subject, a more 
rich, full, and sonorous voice was seldom heard in any 
public body ; not that his tones were dehcate or meU 
13 



146 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

lifluous, but full of majesty and command, free from 
arrogance, timidity, or hesitation. His gestures were 
graceful, but not in the slightest degree studied ; his 
language was rich, gentlemanly, select, but not pain^ 
fully chosen ; he not only had words for all occasions, 
but the very words he should have used. 

As a writer he excelled in judgment and taste : 
there was a classical elegance in his familiar writings ; 
and his higher compositions were marked with that 
lucid order and clearness of thought and purity of eX'- 
pression, which distinguished the Augustan age. His 
sentences were not grappled together by hooks of steel, 
but connected by golden hinges, that made a harmo- 
nious whole. His library was rich in works of merit, 
ancient and modern. The history of literature and 
science was as familiar to him as that of his native 
State, and he had the means of turning to it with much 
greater facility. 

He was an instance in point that a man may be a 
good lawyer, and yet devote some of his time to class- 
ical pursuits. 

Ezekiel Webster was one of those great men, rare 
instances in the world, who had thrown away ambition ; 
and who preferred to be learned and happy in his course 
of life, rather than to court the gale and spread his sails, 
to be wafted along on popular opinion. He sought 
not popularity, but he had it ; that popularity which 
follows, not that which is run after. He watched the 
signs of the times, and was as good a diviner in politics 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 147 

as any one ; but whatever the presages were, he looked 
at coming events unmoved, leaving their results to 
Heaven. 

•^For several of the last years of his life, he was cur- 
tailing his business in order to devote some portion of 
the prime of his manhood to literary and scientific pur- 
suits, so congenial to his heart ; but in this he was 
disappointed, for yet while in the fulness of his strength 
he was called to leave the world, for whose benefit he 
was formed. The ways of Providence are right, how- 
ever hidden the laws are from us. It is to be regretted 
that one so able should have written so little as he has ; 
probably he was waiting for those hours of leisure, in 
which he was contemplating to form his plan of some 
literary work. The writer of these remarks, — his class- 
mate and his friend, — once suggested to him the history 
of his native State as a subject for his pen, and the 
thought did not seem unpleasant to him. In the boy- 
ish days of the WTiter, he undertook to translate Ana- 
creon, and carried his productions daily for the correc- 
tions of his fi'iend, whose mature mind gave the trans- 
lation all the finish it possessed. 

No one he ever knew had a more admirable spirit 
of criticism than Ezekiel Webster, united with that 
generous indulgence which only great minds feel and 
practice. A few months before he died, some sym- 
toms of a disease of the heart were perceptible, but 
not alarming to his friends, but he knew the uncertainty 
of human life, and without any special command set his 



148 LIFE OF WEBStEft, 

house in order, and made preparation for his long jour- 
ney. Tliere is a beauty in that calm;, deep, silent, re- 
ligious feeling, that none but great and pure minds can 
ever know. After having put all his worldly affairs 
into a most perfect train for settlement at his death, 
and wishing his friends to be free from all doubts 
upon his religious impressions and behef, he sat down 
and wrote his sentiments on this momentous subject, 
which were found on his table after his death. This 
was his last composition. How true it is, that the en- 
joyment of health, the accumulating of wealth, the pur- 
suits of science and the love of letters, and the world's 
applause, sanctioned by the good man's benison, are 
not sufficient for an immortal mind. All these things are, 
in a great measure, connected with fellow mortals, and 
are finite in their influences upon the mind, while reli- 
gion is a connexion with infinity, — ^with Deity, — it enters 
into eternity, leaves time and sense to earth, and by 
the bright inspirations of faith takes the sting from 
Death, and from the grave its victory. A great mind 
accustomed to ' long converse with the invisible world/ 
and seeing, day after day, his friends falling around 
him, breathes, as each descends to the tomb, 

* How dreary is this gulph ! how dark — how void — 
The trackless shores, that never were repass'd 1 
Dread separation ! on the depth untry'd, 
Hope falters, and the soul recoils aghast t — 

' Wide round the spacious heav'ns I cast my eyes ; 
And shall these stars glow with immortal fire I 
Still shine the lifeless glories of the skies I 
And could thy bright, thy living soul expire ! — 



LIFE OP WEBSTER. 149 

* Far be the thought ! The pleasures most sublime, 
The glow of friendship, and the virtuous tear. 
The soaring wish that scorns the bounds of time, 
Chill'd in the vale of death, but languish here.' 

^ The adoption of the Constitution of the United States 

, was almost a miracle of itself It was effected by the 
perseverance of the first intelligence of the land. The 
patriots who reasoned as well as felt, found all their 
labors would be lost, if something towards concentrating 
the energies and giving a uniformity to commercial 
regulations were not effected. The whole matter was 
a compromise, and but few were entirely satisfied. 
There can be no doubt, but that a portion of the com- 
munity thought the Constitution was too feeble to last 
long, they supposed that its tendency would be towards 
democracy, and that after a while difficulties would 
arise, such as it would be impossible to overcome. 
Some believed that it would, from year to year, grow 
more aristocratic, and therefore watched every thing, 
excited by fear that all would be lost in the power of 
the few. Between hopes and fears the machine went 

■ on, to the wonder and satisfaction of almost every one. 
The instrument was likened to the Amphictyonic league, 
and considered as if there were something sacred about 
it. Others said, that it was modelled on the principles 
of the United Provinces ; and there was some truth in 
that. The framers of the old Confederation, no doubt, 
had that compact in view when the States, by their 

. delegates, first assembled at Philadelphia ; and there 
were not a few who wished to find a resemblance in 

13* 






150 LIFE OF WEBSTER. I 

our government to that of the Swiss cantons. \^ haf- 
ever each one thought, certain it is, that there were 
some points of it differently construed by sagacious 
men in different parts of the country ; but all seemed 
to wish to give it a fair experiment. The power of the 
judiciary was viewed with jealousy by the South and 
many other parts of the country. Many portions of 
our fellow-citizens reposed so much confidence in the 
judiciary, that they thought all w^as safe while that 
branch of the government was unassailed. The Supreme 
Court had maintained a dignified course, not courting 
cases in which constitutional questions were involved, 
but meeting them manfully when they were directly 
brought before them. The East considered the embargo 
an unconstitutional act, inasmuch as it annihilated,, 
instead of regulating commerce. This question was 
freely discussed in the legislatures of some of the New 
England States ; but whatever might be their opinions 
on the subject, it was thought to be most constitutional 
to bring tlie matter before the Supreme Judicial Court. 
This was done, and its constitutionality supported. 
The people of New England acquiesced. In 1816, a 
tariff was laid by southern votes. There was no ob- 
jection made to the constitutionality of the law. In 
1824, the Middle and Western States got up another 
tariff bill, to a greater part of which the East was op- 
posed, and it was not carried by their votes. In 1826, 
this bill was amended by the Middle States, aided by 
New England, who had §o far changed their business. 



LIFE OP WEBSTER. 151 

as to wish for that which they had been opposed to a 
short time before. The course Mr. Webster took in 
this change has been previously mentioned. The 
South were enraged at this act, and saw ten thousand 
evils in it, that have not been realized and never will 
be. In this exlcitement intemperate resolutions were 
promulgated at several meetings in South Carolina; 
and members of Congress in both houses from that 
State, as well as from some other States, took every 
opportunity to vent their indignation in debate, whether 
the subject would strictly warrant it or not. 

On the 29th of December, 1829, a resolution was 
introduced into the Senate by Mr. Foote, respecting 
the sale of public lands. The resolution was in the 
following words : — 

' Resolved, That the Committee on Public Lands 
be instructed to inquire and report the quantity of public 
lands remaining unsold within each State and Territory ; 
and whether it be expedient to limit, for a "certain 
period, the sales of the public lands to such lands only 
as have been heretofore offered for sale, and are now 
subject to entry at the minimum price. And, also, 
whether the office of Surveyor-General, and some of 
the land offices may not be abolished without detriment 
to the public interest ; or whether it be expedient to 
adopt measures to hasten the sales and extend more 
rapidly the surveys of the public lands.* 

On the 18th of January, Mr. Benton, of Missouri, 
addressed the Senate upon the subject, and took a wide 



152 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

latitude in debate. On the 19th, Mr. Hayne pro- 
ceeded in the debate, and adopted all the strange doc- 
trines which Mr. Benton had av^owed. He travelled 
widely out of the true course of the debate, to find fault 
with men and measures of former times, and particu- 
larly of the course pursued by the East on many occa- 
sions. On the 20th, Mr. Webster took the floor in 
reply. He had intended to take no part in the debate, 
for he could not have imagined that it would have 
taken such a range ; but he felt that he was bound to' 
go out, though unarmed, when his views, his whole 
course of political conduct, and that portion of the 
country which gave him birth, were all so rudely treated. 
The effect of this day's speech was powerful. He met 
and answered Mr. Hayne's attack upon the policy of 
the United States towards the purchasers of Western 
lands, which Mr. Hayne seemed to think was hard, 
rigorous and unfeeling. Mr. Webster proved that it 
was not only just, but precisely what it ought to have 
been, to build up the West solidly and prosperously. 
He dwelt upon the arduous duties of the Government, 
to plant these territories and defend them against the 
most powerful tribes of Indians known on the continent. 
To prove the vast amount of the expenses of these 
frontiers, he pointed to the exertions and the sufferings 
of Hannan and St. Clair ; and for the wisdom of the 
])olicy, to the growth, the magic growth, of Ohio. To 
make it plain, he ran over the history of this growth, 
and urged the claims of those who fought the battles of 



LII*E OF WEBSTER. 153 

the revolution to the lands in order to pay them for 
their services. 

Mr. Webster denied that the tariff belonged to the 
East. New England was not the author of it. He 
contended that she had ever been kind and generous 
to the West, that her policy was liberal to the South 
and West. He challenged a recurrence to all her 
votes in those times, in which she was supposed to be 
most unfriendly to the Western States, for the correct- 
ness of her conduct. 

Mr. Benton replied to this speech, and Mr. Hayne 
followed with no little excitement. He refused to 
postpone the subject, and wished for an opportunity to 
return the fire he had received. Mr. Webster's fi-iends 
asked for him some delay, as they knew his engage- 
ments in the Supreme Court at that time ; he, how- 
ever, wished the discussion to proceed. Mr. Hayne 
then made a speech of great length, in which he en- 
larged his former accusations, and enforced anew his 
own doctrines. Mr. Webster followed. 

In this speech, on the 26th of January, he turned 
upon Mr. Hayne and threw back his sarcasms with 
great dignity and effect. The North was ably vindi- 
cated, by the best of all possible methods, by appeal- 
ing directly to the history of past ages, and bringing up 
her deeds from the commencement of the Government ; 
or, rather, before the Constitution was formed down to 
the present day. All was clear as sunshine. The 
clouds were swept away, if there were those who werQ 



154 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

bewildered by assertion, or for a moment darkened by 
erroneous statements made with the solemnity of truth. 
Mr. Webster defended the Northern and Eastern States 
in their course of conduct towards the West, particu- 
larly as that had been a second time the burthen of 
Mr. Hayne's philippic. 

Mr. Webster went through the charges against the 
East, the Federalists, and all the sins of omission and 
commission alleged against them, with fearless appeals 
to the journals of the House and Senate, to every page 
of information, within doors and without ; but without 
any narrow spirit or sectional partialities. He paid 
that homage to the illustrious men of South Carolina, 
that a great mind always feels for departed genius and 
worth, wherever born, or in whatever age their virtues 
were stamped. He went farther, and expressed his 
pride in calling * the Laurenses, the Rutledges, the 
Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Marions, Americans, 
all — whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by State = 
lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of 
being circumscribed within the same narrow limits.' 
His description of their patriotic course, — of their 
deeds, — as united with the East, in the great revolu- 
tionary conflict, ' when they went shoulder to shoul- 
der,' through the perils of the hour ; and when they 
together ralHed around the father of his country, ^ and 
felt his own great arm lean on them for support,' was. 
full of life and truth. The orator turned to Massachu- 
setts, but instantly left her alone in her glory. All 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 155 

this was noble ; it showed the orator, the statesman, 
and the able defender of all those who looked to him 
for a just and fair representation of them and their his- 
tory ; who looked to him, also, as an advocate with the 
world for their claims to pure republican principles 
and patriotic exertions. He would not suffer his 
friends to be charged with faults, without daring their 
accusers to the proof; nor slandered without repelling 
the falsehoods with an honest zeal for their fame. 
Ages may pass away before such another opportunity 
will be given for such another defence. 

It was not this part of the oration, eloquent as it 
was, abounding in almost every species of the divine 
art, that made the most valuable portion of it ; it was 
not the keen irony, the lucid explanation, the spirited 
retort, the proud defence, the irresistible answer, that 
this great production contained, that shall live the 
longest among his fellow men. It is the full, fair and 
noble commentary on the Constitution, that is to run 
onward as long as that Constitution shall last ; and to 
survive it, if it should crumble to the dust, that will 
exist forever, and be a standard for future ages. This 
was not a commentary made by a theorist in his closet, 
who had no practical knowledge on the subject ; no, 
it was an examination made by a statesman, on the 
floor of the Senate, before statesmen, in the hearing of 
the country ; where the slightest eiTor in fact would 
have been corrected on the spot. What sages had 
said, what politicians had suggested, and practical men 



156 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

had effected, all came bursting from his memory in a 
flood of light, and illumined all around him. He de- 
nied the doctrine that this Constitution was a compact 
between the Thirteen States, which was binding on 
them only as States, and on other States which might 
be admitted into the Union ; but contended that it was 
from the people, made by them, in their name, in their 
natural capacity ; and that, as far as the States partic- 
ularly interfered in the formation of the instrument, was 
only a method of getting the voices of the people. 
The acts done under this Constitution were not to re- 
ceive their constructions from the opinions of any State, 
but were to be tested, if disputed, by tribunals provided 
for in the Constitution itself He stated the doctrine 
as held by the gentleman from South Carolina : 

* I understand the honorable gentleman from South 
Carolina to maintain, that it is a right of the State Legis- 
latures to interfere, whenever, in their judgment, this 
Government transcends its constitutional limits, and to 
arrest the operation of its laws. 

* I understand him to maintain this right, as a right 
existing under the Constitution, not as a right to over- 
throw it, on the ground of extreme necessity, such as 
would justify violent revolution. 

' I understand him to maintain an authority, on the 
part of the States, thus to interfere, for the purpose of 
correcting the exercise of power by the General Govern- 
ment, of checking it, and of compelling it to conform to 
their opinion of the extent of its powers. 

* I understand him to maintain, that the ultimate power 
of judging of the constitutional extent of its own author- 
ity, is not lodged exclusively in the General Government, 
or any branch of it ; but that, on the contrary, the States 



1 






LIFE OF WEBSTER. 157 

may lawfully decide for themselves, and each State for 
itself, whether, in a given case, the act of the General 
Government transcends its power. 

* I understand him to insist, that if the exigency of the 
case, in the opinion of any State Government require it, 
such State Government may, by its own sovereign au- 
thority, annul an act of the General Government, which 
it deems plainly and palpably unconstitutional.' 

These heads were examined singly, as they were 
stated, and their fallacy exposed, and the sophistry that 
supported them put down, by the strong hand of truth 
and the power of reason. He showed the impractica- 
bility of carrying into effect the gentleman's mode of 
testing the constitutionality of an act of Congress ; that 
the very attempt would be treason, however sincere 
and patriotic the Intention. These speeches of Mr. 
Hayne and Mr. Webster flew on ten thousand wings 
to every part of the Union ; and the explanations and 
elucidations of all and every part of the Constitution, 
as given by Mr. Webster, were hailed by a great pro- 
portion of the freemen of the United States as full, 
sound, just, and satisfactory. The people, as a body 
of men, on abstract questions, are clear headed ; they 
cannot be gulled or dazzled by any one, — with a noble 
obstinacy they will judge for themselves. On a great 
constitutional question, they never stop to ask to what 
party the expounder belongs, or from what section of the 
country he came ; these are matters of after thought. 
They avow their concordance of sentiment and opin- 
ion first, and then Inquire from whence came the man. 
14 



158 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

r 
This speech was not only found in the columns of the 

periodical journals, but assumed a more permanent i 
shape, and was purchased as a stock-book. It was 
again read by young and old, and listened to by learned j 
and unlearned, — ^by women and children, — and discus- u 
sed in every circle. It was impossible to do justice to 
the speech" by extracts taken here and there, as is 
usual ; one might as well give the breadth and height 
of the tower whose top reached towards the heavens, 
by examining a Babylonish brick, as to give an idea of 
the whole of this great argument by exhibiting a shred 
or two of it. This tower of intellectual strength is re- 
served for a different fate from that erected on the 
plains of Shinar ; for instead of confusing the minds 
and confounding the language of men, it has brought 
all the jarring tongues and different interpretations to 
one voice and one constmction upon the Constitution 
of our country. Although we have forborne to make 
extracts, for fear of injuring the force of the argument, 
presented to the public, — which seems a sort of gal- 
vanic battery, in which by removing a single piece 
you may weaken the force of the whole, — yet we may 
take the closing paragraph, which makes a chaste and 
beautifiil ornament for the pillar on which he has rested 
an item of his fame, to show something of his taste as 
well as of his powers of reasoning. 

* But, sir, what is this danger, and what the grounds 
of it? Let it be remembered, that the Constitution of the 
United States is not unalterable. It is to continue in its 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 159 

present form no longer than the people who established 
it shall choose to continue it. If they shall become con- 
vinced that they have made an injudicious or inexpedient 
partition and distribution of power, between the State 
Governments and the General Government, they can alter 
that distribution at will. 

* If anything be found in the national Constitution, 
either by original provision, or subsequent interpreta- 
tion, which ought not to be in it, the people know how 
to get rid of it. If any construction be established, un- 
acceptable to them, so as to become, practically, a part of 
the Constitution, they will amend it, at their own sov- 
ereign pleasure, but while the people choose to maintain 
it as it is, — while they are satisfied with it, and refuse to 
change it, — who has given, or who can give, to the State 
Legislatures, a right to alter it, either by interference, 
construction or otherwise ? Gentlemen do not seem to 
recollect that the people have any power to do anything 
for themselves ; they imagine there is no safety for them, 
any longer than they are undsr the close guardianship of 
the State Legislatures. Sir, the people have not trusted 
their safety, in regard to the general Constitution, to 
these hands. They have required other security, and 
taken other bonds. They have chosen to trust them- 
selves, first, to the plain words of the instrument, and to 
such construction as the Government itself, in doubtful 
cases, should put on its own powers, under their oaths of 
office, and subject to their responsibility to them ; just as 
the people of a State trust their own State Governments 
with a similar power. Secondly, they have reposed their 
trust in the efficacy of frequent elections, and in their 
own power to remove their own servants and agents, 
whenever they see cause. Thirdly, they have reposed 
trust in the judicial power, which, in order that it might be 
trust-worthy, they have made as respectable, as disinter- 
ested, and as independent as was practicable. Fourthly, 
they have seen fit to rely, in case of necessity, or high 
expediency, on their known and admitted power, to alter 
or amend the Constitution, peaceably, and quietly, when- 



160 LlfE OF WEBSTEtt. 

ever experience shall point oiit defects or irtiperfectiofts. 
And, finally, the people of the United States have, at no 
time, in no way, directly or indirectly, authorised any 
State Legislature to construe or interpret their high in- 
strument of Government ; much less to interfere, by their 
own power, to arrest its course and operation. 

* If, sir, the people, in these respects, had done other- 
wise than they have done, their Constitution could neither 
have been preserved, nor would it have been worth pre- 
serving. And, if its plain provisions shall now be disre- 
garded, and these new doctrines interpolated in it, it will 
become as feeble and helpless a being, as its enemies, 
whether early or more recent, could possibly desire. It 
will exist in every State, but as a poor dependent on 
State permission. It must borrow leave to be ; and will 
be, no longer than State pleasure, or State discretion, 
sees fit to grant the indulgence, and to prolong its poor 
existence. 

* But, sir, although there are fears, there are hopes also. 
The people have preserved this, their own chosen Con- 
stitution, for forty years, and have seen their happiness, 
prosperity, and renown, grow with its growth, and 
strengthen with its strength. They are now, generally, 
strongly attached to it. Overthrown by direct assault, it 
cannot be ; evaded, undermined, nullified, it will not 
be, if we, and those who shall succeed us here, as agents 
and representatives of the people, shall conscientiously 
and vigilantly discharge the two great branches of our 
public trust, — faithfully to preserve, and wisely to admin- 
ister it. 

* Mr. President, I have thus stated the reasons of my 
dissent to the doctrines which have been advanced and 
maintained. I am conscious of having detained you and 
the Senate much too long. I was drawn into the debate, 
w ith no previous deliberation such as is suited to the dis- 
cussion of so grave and important a subject. But it is a 
subject of which my heart is full, and I have not been 
wiUing to suppress the utterance of its spontaneous sen- 
:iimcnts. I cannot, even now, persuade myself to rolia- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 161 

quish it, without expressing once more, my deep convic- 
tion, that, since it respects nothing less than the union 
of the States, it is of most vital and essential importance 
to the public happiness. I profess, sir, in my career, 
hitherto, to have kept steadily in view the prosperity and 
honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our 
Federal Union. It is to that union we owe our safety at 
home, and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is 
to that union that we are chiefly indebted for whatever 
makes us most proud of our country. That union we 
reached only by the discipline of our virtues in the se- 
vere school of adversity. It had its origin in the neces- 
sities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and 
ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these great 
interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and 
sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its du- 
ration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its 
blessings ; and, although our territory has stretched out 
wider and wider, and our population spread farther and 
farther, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. 
It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, 
and personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir, 
to look beyond the union, to see what might lie hidden 
in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed 
the chances of preserving liberty when the bonds that 
unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not 
accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of dis- 
union, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom 
the depth of the abyss below ; nor could I regard him as 
a safe counsellor in the affairs of this Government, whose 
thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how 
the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable 
might be the condition of the people when it shall be 
broken up and destroyed. While the Union lasts, we 
have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out be- 
fore us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not 
to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day, at 
least, that curtain may not rise. God grant, that on my 

14* 



162 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

vision never may be opened vi^hat lies behind. When 
my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the 
sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken 
and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on 
States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent 
with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal 
blood ! — Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather 
behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known 
and honored throughout the earth, still full high ad- 
vanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original 
lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star 
obscured — bearing for its motto, no such miserable in- 
terrogatory, as JVhat is all this loorth 7 Nor those other 
words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and Union 
afterwards — but everywhere, spread all over in charac- 
ters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they 
float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind 
under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to 
every true American heart — Liberty and Union, now and 
forever, one and inseparable !' 

It has fallen to the lot of Mr. Webster to have been 
called upon to express his opinion upon all the great 
questions which have been agitated in the community 
since he has been upon the stage. He has been too 
cautious to obtrude a premature opinion on any sub- 
ject, but when his mind has been made up and when 
properly called upon, he has always expressed himself | 
directly, without any of that double meaning so com- 
mon with political aspirants. On the great question 
of the power given to Congress by the Constitution to 
make internal improvements he has in many of his 
speeches been explicit, but at the same time added, i 
that it was a power that should be most discreetly '' 



\ 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 163 

used. The opposition to this doctrine is diminishing, 
upon the conviction of its usefulness in extending the 
beneficial effects of the General Government, particu- 
larly on the seaboard and frontiers. 

Though it is not directly in his pathway as a lawyer, 
he has been called upon to give his opinion upon the 
subject of the abolishment of imprisonment for debt. 
There has been no little bitterness of feeling upon this 
question. The most zealous advocates for the aboli- 
tion, thinking to get all they asked for at once, would 
not consent to proceed by degrees to the accomplish- 
ment of their wishes, as they should have done. They 
were for knocking off all the shackles at once and be 
free as air. In this, they showed more spirit than 
prudence, or knowledge of human nature. The sup- 
porters of the iron system took advantage of the im- 
perative tone of their opponents, and by alarming the 
timid and the doubtful still kept the majority in New 
England on their side, — and sometimes, — a most mis- 
erable policy, — secured the bolts and bars of the prison 
more closely; for break they must, — the decree of 
common sense and sound policy has gone forth and 
will be obeyed, however hard the struggle and despe- 
rate the fight. 

The progress of liberal opinion has been gradual 
even in New England, and many who were at first op- 
posed to the abolishment of imprisonment are now 
friendly to it, having examined the subject more tho- 
roughly. The liberal views of several of the first men 



164 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

of New England on this subject, expressed many years 
ago, ought not now to be forgotten. Thomas H. Per- 
kins, a most opulent merchant and a high minded 
gentleman in Boston, ten or twelve years past, took 
lead in attempting to ameliorate or repeal the laws 
on imprisonment for debt in Massachusetts ; and 
more than twenty years ago a refined and polished 
scholar, and an honorable merchant, Benjamin Pick- 
man of Salem, avowed the strange doctrine, for that 
day, that there should be no imprisonment for the 
honest debtor. His exalted moral purity and weight 
of intellectual character, must have had some influence 
even then, but he has lived to see his principles gain 
ground ; and in many States obtain ultimate success. 

Some years since, a benevolent society was formed 
in Boston, which, among other matters, took up the 
subject of imprisonment for debt. They began in the 
right way to ensure ultimate success, and that was to 
accumulate all the necessary facts to enlighten the 
people. The investigation astonished themselves, for 
this examination clearly proved that imprisonment in- 
stead of being a mean of coercing the collection of 
debts was only disguised vengeance on the part of the 
creditor in nine cases out of ten. These details they 
spread before the public, and it must be confessed that 
this has done more than arguments, in furtherance of 
their benevolent views. Not resting here, they wished 
to fortify themselves by the deliberate opinion of men, 
who do and ought to give direction in no small degree 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 165 

to public opinion, and they directed letters to several 
gentlemen of distinction in Massachusetts, requesting 
opinions upon certain propositions, which taken to- 
gether involved all the principles discussed in relation 
to imprisonment for debt. Judge Jackson, Mr. E. Ev- 
erett, Mr. Webster, returned answers to the managers, 
and although there is no probability that there w^as any 
concert among them, yet the spirit of their answers was 
the same. 

The public are much indebted to this society, for 
they have not only measured and guaged the miseries 
caused by oppressive laws and injurious practices, 
but they have taken the best method of bringing about 
reform. The facts^ stated by the great philanthropist, 
Howard, collected in his tour of humanity, were a thou- 
sand times more valuable than his charities, which w^ere 
numerous and well bestowed. The disclosures that he 
published, set the humane to thinking on and examin- 
ing the subject of the state of prisons ; he brought the 
abuses of power home to every one by words and 
figures. There can be no fear but that a moral people 
wull act right when they know the whole matter ; but 
it is difficult to get at the tmth, when there are so 
many interested, as they think, to keep the tmth out 
of sight ; but the truth which has been so long con- 
cealed is now bursting upon us. We have been in- 
fluenced by exaggerated or fictitious fears, while we 
were closing our eyes against real ones in our very 
neighborhood. How many have wept over the 



166 LIFE or WEBSTER. 

wretched prisoner of State in the bastile ? The stor)'' of 
the man in the iron mask has been told, until we were 
almost suffocated with the pressure of the weight of the 
machine upon our throats. We have followed the 
condemned one over the Bridge of Sighs, and shrieked 
in our reveries as we saw him enter the prison, never 
more to return. These instances of cruelty are shock- 
ing to the feelings of a free and humane people, they 
burn with indignation at such oppression, and are ready 
for a crusade against such enormities. Why sleeps 
the vengeance of God when such cruel scenes are 
enacted ? is their exclamation. This is natural, this is 
honest ; it is honorable to human nature ; but it would 
be well for us to spare ourselves all these writhings of 
sensibility for the bastile and the dungeons of Venice. 
These prisons were not crowded ; for years they had 
no inmates, — and seldom was there a State victim in 
France or in Venice ; but in our land of freedom, hun- 
dreds and tens of hundreds have been jammed into 
county jails, for paltry debts which they were unable 
to pay ; and even kept there by the power of some 
petty, heartless tyrant, until their spirits were broken, 
and their health and morals destroyed, and no one 
among us laid it to heart. 

Let spendthrift folly be chastised by the law ; let 
fraud be punished as severely as you will ; but in the 
name of justice set free, after due examination, the 
honest debtor, who has struggled to pay all he could, 
and deplores that he can do no more. There is hope 



LIFE OF WEBSTER, 167 

for the wretched, for humanity has penetrated the 
darkest cells of the prison-house, and taken an inven- 
tory of all the miseries there to be known ; and this is 
not allj strong voices, which must and will be heard, 
are calling aloud to the people from every quarter, to 
wrench the bolts, to burst the bars, and to demolish 
the dark pile, where honest poverty is confined with 
cut-throat villany, and reserve the dungeon alone for 
the felon. 

We are happy in pausing a moment in our progress, 
from one public monument to another in the life of Mr. 
Webster, to notice this subject, so deeply affecting the 
community. 

To such men as have given their opinion freely upon 

the questions which were proposed by this society, we 

would say, as the father of mankind did to the celestial 

messenger, who had freely answered many inquiries of 

high import, 

* Thou to mankind 
Be good and friendly still, and oft return !' 

Letter addressed to Rev, Louis Dwight, Secretary of the 
Prison Discipline Society, on the Subject of Imprison- 
ment for Debt. 

Washington, May 2, 1830. 

< Sir, — I have received your letter of the 19th of April, 
asking my opinion upon several questions, all relative to 
the subject of imprisonment for debt. I am quite willing 
to express my general opinions on that interesting sub- 
ject, although they are not so matured as to be entitled 
to influence other men's judgments. The existing 
laws, I think, call loudly for revision and amendment. 
Your first four questions seek to know what I think of 



168 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

imprisonment for small sums. I am decidedly against 
it ; I would carry the exemption to debts of thirty or forty 
dollars, at least. Individual instances of evil or hardship 
might, I am aware, follow from such a change; but I 
am persuaded the general result would be favorable, in a 
high degree, to industry, sobriety, and good morals, as 
well as to personal liberty. 

' You ask, in the next place, w^hat I think of impris- 
onment for debt in any case where there is no evidence 
of fraud. Certainly 1 am of opinion that there should 
be no imprisonment for debt, where it appears that no 
fraud has been practised, or intended, either in contract- 
ing the debt, or in omitting to pay it. But then, it seems 
to me, that, when a man does not fulfil a lawful promise, 
he ought to show his inability, and to show also that his 
own conduct has been fair and honest. He ought not to 
be allowed merely to say he cannot pay, and then to call 
on the creditor to prove that his inability is pretended or 
fraudulent. He ought to show why he does not and 
cannot fulfil his contract, and to give reasonable evidence 
that he has not acted fraudulently ; and, this being done, 
his person ought to be held no longer. In the first place, 
the creditor is entitled to the oath of his debtor, and, in 
the next place, to satisfactory explanation of any suspi- 
cious circumstances. 

* There are two sorts of fraud, either of which, when 
proved, ought to prevent a liberation of the person, viz. : 
fraud in contracting the debt, and fraud in concealing, 
or making way with, the means of payment. And the 
usual provisions of the bankrupt act ought to be added, 
that no one should be discharged, who is proved to have 
lost money in any species of gaming ; and I should in- 
clude, in this class, all adventurers in lotteries. Having 
tendered his own oath, and made just explanation of any 
circumstances of suspicion, if there be such, and not 
having lost money by gaming, the debtor ought to be dis- 
charged at once ; which answers another of your ques- 
tions ; for the detention of thirty days, before the oath 
can be taken, appears to me wholly useless. 



LIFE OP WEBSTER. 169 

* You are pleased to ask whether, in my judgment, 
Christians can, with a good conscience, imprison either 
other Christians or infidels ? He would be very little of a 
Christian, I think, who should make a difference, in 
such a case, and be willing to use a degree of severity 
towards Jew or Greek, which he would not use towards 
one of his own faith. Whether conscientious men can 
imprison anybody for debt, whom they do not believe 
dishonest or fraudulent, is a question which every man, 
while the law allows such imprisonment, must decide for 
himself. In answer to your inquiry, whether I have 
found it necessary to use such coercion, in regard to 
debts of my own, I have to say, that I never imprisoned 
any man for my own debt, under any circumstances; 
nor have I, in five and twenty years' professional practice, 
ever recommended it to others, except in cases where 
there was manifest proof, or violent and unexplained 
suspicion, of intentional fraud. 

* Imprisonment for debt, my dear sir, as it is now 
practised, is, in my judgment, a great evil ; and, it 
seems to me, an effectual remedy for the larger part of 
the evil is obvious. Nineteen twentieths of the whole 
of it would be relieved, in my opinion, if imprisonment 
for small debts were to be abolished. That object I be- 
lieve to be attainable ; and to its attainment, I think, 
the main attention of those who take an interest in the 
subject should be directed. Small credits are often 
given, on the confidence of being able to collect the debt 
by the terrors of the jail ; great ones, seldom or never. 

* Three simple provisions would accomplish all, in my 
opinion, that may be considered as absolutely required to 
a just state of the law, respecting imprisonment for debt 
in Massachusetts. 

* 1. That no imprisonment should be allowed, when 
the debts, exclusive of costs, did not amount to $30. 

* 2. That there should be no necessity of imprisonment 
for thirty days, as preliminary to taking the poor debtor's 
oath ; nor any longer detention than such as is necessary 
to give parties notice, and time to prepare for examina- 

15 



170 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

tion ; and that a convenient number of magistrates, in 
every county, should, for the purpose of administering 
the oaths, be appointed by the government ; and that 
such magistrates should be clothed vi'ith such further 
powers as might be thought expedient, in order to enable 
them to make a thorough investigation of the fairness or 
fraud of the debtor's conduct. 

* 3. That in cases where the debtor had been dis- 
charged, if the creditor w^ould make oath to newly dis- 
covered evidence, proving original fraud, or, to his be- 
lief, that the debtor had subsequently received property, 
and concealed or withheld the same from his creditors, 
it should be competent to such creditor to have investi- 
gation of such charge, and, if made out, to have execu- 
tion against the person, and if not made out, that the 
creditor should pay the cost of the proceeding. 

' Other provisions might doubtless be useful ; but if 
these three alone could be obtained, they would, in a 
great measure, clear the jails of debtors, and give general 
satisfaction, I have no doubt, to creditors. 

' I ought to add, that the imprisonment of females in 
the common jails, for mere debt, is a barbarism which 
ought not to be tolerated. Instances of such imprison- 
ment, though rare, do yet sometimes occur, under cir- 
cumstances that shock every humane mind. In this res- 
pect, the law ought, in my judgment, to be altogether 
reformed.' 

In an earlier part of this memoir, we noticed some 
few of the forensic speeches of Mr. Webster, but a very- 
small number of them only could be named or noticed 
with critical remarks, even if this work were extended 
to half a dozen volumes, and we had the notes from 
which they might be taken ; for he has now been twenty- 
six years at the bar, and in full practice in higher and 
in inferior courts also a portion of the time, and in that 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 171 

period he has argued more than a thousand causes of 
importance, besides an immense number of those which 
are necessarily forgotten with the common business of 
the day. Many of those, both of the greater and the 
lesser kind are lost, irrevocably lost, but their effects 
on court and jury will be long remembered. Some of 
them, no doubt, made when there were no restraints 
upon him, and when in the hours of health and spirits, 
had as much power and more brilliancy than his efforts 
made in high places with reporters at his elbow. The 
world has been favored but with few volumes of for- 
ensic eloquence, in comparison with the number of 
speeches preserved from the debates of deliberativ^e 
bodies. One reason for this scarcity has been, that 
these productions do not always convey the honest 
dictates of the speaker's understanding, and of course 
satisfied with whatever ingenuity he may have exhibit- 
ed at the time, or with the praise he may have re- 
ceived, he is not desu'ous that his argument should be 
preserved ; and when he, and his fiiends are satisfied 
that his logic is sound and his argument felicitous, it is 
difficult to preserve an extemporaneous speech, unless 
there be some strong inducement for the speaker to sit 
down and write it out fi-om his notes, and it would be 
almost impossible for one in full practice to do this 
often. The late Judge Parsons who for more than 
thirty years held the first rank at the bar of Massachu- 
setts, and with it the reputation of being among the 
greatest geniuses and profoundest scholars of the world, 



172 LIFE or WEBSTEK. 

has not left, as far* as is now disclosed, a page of any 
argument he ever made before court or jury, and the 
evidences of his greatness rest on his judicial opinions 
as a Chief Justice, an office which he only held about 
seven years previous to his death. Parsons lived in a 
time when the great elements which are incorporated 
with our national Constitution were coming into form 
and substance, and he was one of the most powerful 
agents in giving it the noble stamp it has borne ever 
since. Yet nothing is to be found of this great man's 
forensic eloquence on paper ; it lives only in the mem- 
ories of those who loved him, and were so fortunate as 
to have heard him at the bar. Of the forensic eloquence 
of Dexter only a few shreds of speeches remain. Of all 
their predecessors of mighty name and long hfe in New 
England, you might as well ask the sea to give up its 
dead, as to inquire for what they said on the most vital 
occasions. Oblivion has devoured them all, and hardly 
has their plunge into the abyss of the great destroyer 
been remembered. Not ten of Mr. Webster's speeches 
at the bar, have, even in this more careful age, been 
saved, unless he has preserved them himself, which is 
not in the least probable, as those who perform the 
most have the least time to record their doings. The 
few which have been saved, have in general, had some 
bearings upon State rights, or were connected with some 
popular excitement. Three or four of them we have 
mentioned, and to which may be added, the speeches 
in the case of Gibbons against Ogden, and Ogden 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 173 

against Saunders. These have been spread over the 
country by the pubHc journals, and their points and 
bearing are so well known that it is not necessary to 
give an analysis of them. ^ 

One forensic exertion which was made by Mr. Web- 
ster, when acting as counsel for the Commonwealth of 
Massachusetts, on a trial of certain persons charged 
with the murder of Captain Joseph White, of Salem, 
should not pass unnoticed in this memoir, as the event 
was one of the most extraordinary nature in the annals 
of our country ; and the part he bore in it was not a 
little conspicuous. On the 7th of April, 1830, Mr. 
White, an aged citizen of Salem, in the county of Es- 
sex, in Massachusetts, was found dead in his bed, hav- 
ing been murdered during the previous night by some 
vile assassin. The crime produced the most astonish- 
ing excitement ever known in that peaceful commu- 
nity. The town of Salem is one of the most quiet 
places in the country. It is among the second class of 
cities in point of population, and among the very first 
in regard to the moral habits of its inhabitants. The 
people there, almost from its early days, had slept 
quietly in their beds, almost without bolts and bars, nor 
had they hardly thought of them as things of security 
against any one but petty thieves. The murderers had 
remained for some time in secret, and not the most dis- 
tant clue could be found to unravel the mystery, which 
seemed to shroud the whole affair. Not any thing was 
taken from the house of the deceased. His last will 
15* , 



174 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

was found untouched in his chamber. Strong suspi- 
cions were raised against the inmates of the house and 
of the family, from these singular circumstances. The 
first person thought of as the murderer, was the son of 
the housekeeper of Mr. White, who was also his rela- 
tion, but on examination he was acquitted, having 
clearly proved himself to have been in another place 
when the deed was done. Many persons for a while, 
suffered in their feelings, by cruel suspicions, most of 
them spread abroad by those involved in the guilt of 
blood and murder, as was afterwards discovered, prin- 
cipally by the prime mover of the whole scene, a 
wicked and shallow man, who attempted to pursue a 
bold course to screen himself and his associates by 
scattering rumors, and by forging letters to draw suspi- 
cions on others, and particularly on the favorite nephew 
of the deceased, the Hon. Stephen White, who had 
been brought up, as it were, in ^le old man's bosom. 
These rumors were not believed for a moment by 
those acquainted with that gentleman. He had from 
his early youth been a favorite with the people among 
whom he lived as well as with his uncle. He had at 
an early age been honored by the suffrages of his fel- 
low-citizens as a representative of the town in the Le- 
gislature, and soon afterwards was chosen a Senator of 
the large and respectable county of Essex, — a county 
where the people are most scrupulous of the moral 
qualifications of their men in ofBce. He had also been 
elected a counsellor to advise the Supreme Executive 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 175 

of the Commonwealth. As a merchant and a man of 
business, there was not a more honorable person in the 
community in which he lived ; nor had a shadow of 
complaint or suspicion ever rested on his fame. This 
vile attempt to injure him among others, who did not 
thoroughly know him, seemed to his friends worse than 
a second murder, and so inflamed the public mind, that 
every man and child started upon the alert to hunt out 
if possible, the perpetrators of the accursed deed, and 
the vile slanderers together ; but more than a month 
elapsed before anything leading to the discovery of the 
murderers happened. Providence at length directed 
to the track of guilt and blood, and four or five sus- 
pected persons were arrested. These were Richard 
and George Crowninshield, John Francis Knapp, and 
Joseph J. Knapp, and one other. The public were at 
first satisfied of the guilt of some of them, and this opin- 
ion was confirmed from the confessions of J. J. Knapp, 
and from the fact of the suicide of Richard Crownin- 
shield, which soon followed ; he was supposed to have 
been the principal actor in the scene, and it was after- 
wards proved, that he inflicted the blows which caused 
the death of Mr. White. Afi;er Crowninshield's self- 
murder, some difficulties arose in the minds of legal men 
in regard to the doctrines of principals and accessaries, 
— and surely the difficulties were not slight ones. The 
accused had employed men of talent in their defence, 
— Franklin Dexter and Wilham H. Gardiner, Esqrs. 
gentlemen of the Suffolk bar, were engaged as counsel 



176 LIFE OF WEBSTER, 

for Francis and Joseph J. Knapp. The Attorney- 
General was an old man, who had attained his eightieth 
year, and had no living compeer at the bar, and al- 
though bright in intellect, and still retaining much of 
the high spirit and attractive eloquence of his younger 
days, yet he and his friends were fearful that his corpo- 
ral strength would not be sufficient for the occasion, 
and the second public prosecutor was indisposed, and 
it was thought proper by all interested in the event of 
the trial, to engage Mr, Webster on the part of the 
Government, a common thing in many other States, 
and not without precedent in Massachusetts, The 
Court by a special act of the Legislature was held in 
the oppressive heat of July. A speedy trial was ne- 
cessary, in order to allay the excitement which gene- 
rally prevailed. This special Court was attended by 
a most melancholy circumstance, for scarcely had the 
learned and admirable Chief Justice, the Hon, Isaac 
Parker, taken his seat, and given his charge to the 
Grand Jury, than he was called to leave this world. 
His death was deeply felt, for he was in the fulness of 
his usefulness, — not yet old, but he had twenty-four 
years' experience as a Judge on the Supreme Bench. 
At this distressing event the paroxysm of rage and in- 
dignation at guilt and blood were commingled with the 
tears of a bereaved community. The Hon. Leverett 
Saltonstall, President of the Essex bar, in offering 
some appropriate resolutions, made a most feeling and 
eloquent speech upon the death of the Chief Justice, 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 177 

which contained a just and spirited sketch of that dis- 
tinguished jurist and excellent man. This ' dew-drop 
of grief is an intellectual gem, which will shine 
through all the annals of the Bench and Bar, with 
those scattered by the deceased, among the urns of his 
distinguished predecessors. The Court adjourned until 
the 4th of August, when they again proceeded to their 
painful duties, — and one of the prisoners, John Francis 
Knapp, was put on his trial. Every inch of ground 
was contested by the prisoner's counsel with great 
ability and eloquence. They were of that age which 
fears no fatigue, and sufficiently experienced at the Bar 
not to suffer anything of law or evidence which could 
make in favor of the prisoner to escape them. They 
knew their duty and most faithfully and ably discharged 
it. The trial was protracted and painful, — point after 
point was contested to the utmost extent. At times 
there was no little chafing among the advocates, — all 
of which, however, passed away with the hour and the 
occasion. The trial lasted for many days, and ended 
in a disagreement of the jury, after having been out 
twenty-four hours. This added to former difficulties, 
made the contest sickening, but neither side could, or 
would yield ; there was more felt than expressed. A 
new jury was impannelled and the trial went on, fatigued 
and worn down as all parties were. Bayed and crowded 
as he was, — and this was all right in favor of human 
life^ — Mr. Webster's exertions were acknowledged ta 
have been of the highest order of intellectual display^ 



178 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

He was armed at every point, and fought as one de- 
termined for victory ; and he had no gi'eater admirers 
than his honorable opposers. In the midst of his agi- 
tation there were not a few who thought that he was 
lending his great strength to break down those safe- 
guards of the law, made by the wisdom of ages for the 
protection of individuals ; but sober reflection has cor- 
rected this error, and the sound judgment of the com- 
munity has decided, that he struggled to prevent jus- 
tice from being strangled in the nets of forms. But 
however this may be, it was his duty as a public pros- 
ecutor, to press every point in favor of Government in 
such a case ; for on the Court the responsibility rested 
at last. There have always been, and ever will be 
difficulties, in relation to the doctrine of confession ; 
they arose in this case, but happily were surmounted ; 
and public justice was satisfied in the ignominious death 
of three wretches concerned in the murder. Mr. Web- 
ster's speech on this occasion in summing up the case, 
is one not only of deep feeling, but also of sound rea- 
soning upon the testimony. The mass of facts was put 
together in such an able and workmanlike manner, as 
to bring conviction to every mind of the guilt of the 
accused. The tale told ever so coldly had eloquence 
enough in it to move hearts of stone. He had no oc- 
casion to vindicate his friend ; to be ready to do it, if 
in any way necessary, was probably the principal mo- 
tive of his engaging in the cause. The advocate and 
friend was ready to put the reputation of the favorite 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 179 

nephew of the deceased into every form of ordeal re- 
quired by the most suspicious. He was as sure of its 
purity as of his existence. 

A word or two in stating some few of the prominent 
facts, as developed in the several trials, may not be un- 
acceptable to the reader, if they should not so directly 
relate to the part Mr. Webster had in this trial. It is 
to be hoped for humanity's sake that this trial will long 
stand alone on the callendar of crimes in our country. 
The deceased was childless. He had accumulated a 
large fortune in early life, and been increasing it by 
careful habits of business. He had nephews and 
nieces, and some of them had children. These were 
objects of his care and bounty, and if they did not 
share alike, they were all patronized as his kindred, in 
such a manner as he thought proper. He had his par- 
tialities, and he did not hesitate to show them. His 
nephew, Stephen White, in early life found favor in his 
eyes, and never for a moment lost his affection. The 
old gentleman, generally, kept a will by him, and the 
fact was known, nor did he w^ish to keep it a secret to 
his friends ; nor was it doubted but that Stephen White 
^ y^LS a legatee in it, a much larger one than any other 
' relation. A grand-niece of Mr. White's, Miss Beck- 
ford, had married a Captain Joseph J. Knapp, Jr. He 
had been in Stephen White's employment as master 
and factor of a ship, but the owner finding that he 
wanted capacity in his profession, did not continue him 
in his service. This probably excited some heart- 



180 Llf^E OF WEBSTER. 

burnings, which were not allayed by any subsequent in- 
tercourse among the family connexions. The mother 
of Knapp's wife, Mrs. Beckford, was house-keeper to 
Mr. White. Of course the prime mover of this mur- 
der had access to the house as he chose. He was 
living in idleness ; the affairs of his father were falling 
into embarrassment, which fact was probably well 
known to him. Captain White, although old, was 
healthy, and seemed formed to live some years, if no 
accident should take him off; and even when he might 
die, it was understood that much of his property would 
go by w^ill to Stephen White, and he was an object of 
his envy and resentment. In this state of feeling the 
diabolical thought of destroying the will of old Mr. 
White and of taking his life came into his mind. He 
conceived the deed, but he had not energy enough to 
execute it. The proposition to kill the old man was 
made by him to his brother, a youth of nineteen, who 
reckless of the consequence of most deeds of daring, 
was not quite firm enough for this act. But on refus- 
ing to undertake the affair alone, he named a com- 
panion who would do the deed for a handsome com- 
pensation. This companion was Richard Crowninshield, 
an abandoned youth, full of hardihood and daring, who 
was prowling about in the community, with a mind 
made for any act at a price. Crowninshield had a 
younger brother in his train. To Richard Crownin- 
shield the prime mover made application, who named 
his price, and set about carrying the deed into effect. 



LIFE OP WEBSTER. 181 

As a preliminary step, the will was to be stolen ; but as 
villany is often short-sighted, the will, thus purloined by 
Knapp, was not the last will of the deceased, but one 
made a year prior thereto, and the fact that any will 
was stolen was not known until Knapp's confession dis- 
closed the circumstance ; the prior will having, as was 
supposed, been long before destroyed by the deceased. 
When this was supposed to have been effected, all 
things were ready for the bloody deed. A club loaded 
with lead was made for the purpose, and a dagger 
pointed. On the night of the 6th of April, in the early 
part of the evening, in the first watches of the sleep of 
the aged, the assassin entered the house, Mrs. Beck- 
ford being absent, and perpetrated the deed, with all 
the calmness of one who had long been familiar with 
crime ; for he felt the pulse of the murdered man, to 
discover if perchance any scintillations of life remained, 
and finding none, he then retired without trepidation or 
contrition. The wages of crime were partly paid, and 
he w^as waiting for the remainder. He wiped his poig- 
nard, kept quiet, and would have been secure, if the 
secret had not been in the keeping of others, less hardy 
in villany than himself The prime mover and his 
brother in their course were restless and agitated, and 
over acted their parts. They swaggered, got up self- 
robberies, wrote anonymous letters to implicate others, 
and especially Mr. Stephen White. If the Salem 
people were greatly excited, they were still keen-eyed, 
and let nothing escape them. While only suspicions 
16 



182 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

were directed to the perpetrators of the murder, and no I' 
one dared do more than to whisper his thoughts into \ 
his neighbor's ear, they were detected by one, if not of • 
the associates in this crime directly, yet, by one who 
was of Crowninshield's banditti, and who in his pecu- 
nieiry wants addressed himself to the murderers for a 
fee for silence. They thought themselves sufficiently 
secure to throw away all true precaution, and they put 
the means of detection into the hands of those on the 
scent for them. One Palmer, the person alluded to, 
of the Crowninshield party, directed a letter, as he 
thought, to the prime mover of this foul deed, which 
fell into the hands of his father, for want of the addition 
of the word junior to the superscription, and on this 
being shewn to the son, he with an appearance of in- 
nocence, laughed at it as a shallow device of some 
worthless fellow , who wanted to get money out of him ; 
and his father, probably, not doubting his innocence, 
gave the letter to the Committee of Vigilance, who 
took the proper steps to find the writer of this letter, 
which they were right in conjecturing was signed with 
a fictitious name. The letter was signed Grant, but 
the writer's name was Palmer. On his production and 
confession, the storm burst on the heads of the Knapps ; 
they were apprehended, examined and committed for 
trial ; the Crowninshields had been previously com- 
mitted on suspicion, which w^as supported by some 
striking circumstances unconnected with the confessions 
and declarations of Palmer. J. J. Knapp confessed 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 183 

his guilt, and stated the names of his accompHces on 
promise of pardon, or rather on the promise of being 
purged by being made a witness : and Richard Crown- 
inshield hearing of J. J. Knapp's confession, and think- 
ing there was no chance of escape, committed suicide 
in prison. Francis Knapp, was, as we have stated, 
tried in August, and was convicted as a principal, and 
J. J. Knapp in November ; he having refused to testify 
on the trial of his brother, forfeited the pledge of pro- 
tection from the public prosecutor. Both suffered, the 
community were satisfied ; the agitation ceased ; but 
still it will be a tale of wonder in all future generations ; 
for it has no parallel in history. Murders are often 
committed for revenge and hatred, by desperadoes 
in want ; but whenever did young men of respectable 
connexions and education, form and carry into effect 
such a cold-blooded and deliberate murder? Impa- 
tient avarice was at the bottom of it ; spendthrift villany 
executed it with a callous heart and an icy hand ; 
and youthful depravity was brought in to assist in dis- 
cussing the subject, in every stage of its guilt. It was 
discovered by no contrition or repentance. All the 
marks of moral turpitude which were stamped on the 
deed at first, will remain on it forever, there was nothing 
washed away, — no stain lessened by tears, even of the 
softening of our natures, to say nothing of true repent- 
ance. It is to be forever a dark and terrible story, it 
will be the ground-work of a hundred legends. Its 
criminality cannot be exaggerated, nor will its moral 



184 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

ever be lost ; it will show the guihy that there is but 
little security^ and no peace for them ; it will teach 
the public, that justice is often much indebted to 
talents and professional skill in bringing rank offend- 
ers to a just judgment. The good effects will not 
close here ; it will give the virtuous a lesson of sustain- 
ing fortitude when assailed by cruel slanders ; and it 
will show him, also, how much brighter shines that 
character which has been tried and stood the test. 

In February, 1831, while Mr. Webster was at Wash- 
ington, several distinguished gentlemen of the city of 
New York sent him an invitation to partake of a pub- 
lic dinner in the city, at such time as he should appoint. 
This invitation and acceptance is taken from the jour- ^ 
nals of the day, and are unquestionably authentic, 

New-York, Feb. 23, I83I. 
To the Hon. Daniel Webster, 

Sir- — Your distinguished public services on a great and 
trying occasion at the last session of Congress in vindi- 
cating the principles of the Constitution, and the powers 
of the General Government have given you a just title to 
the lasting gratitude of your country. 

A number of the citizens of New York deeply im- 
pressed with the value and success of these efforts have 
expressed an earnest desire to unite in offering you some 
public mark of their respect, and we have been deputed 
to ask the honor of your company at a public dinner in 
this city, at such time as your convenience will permit, 
and as you may be pleased to designate. 
We have the honor to be, 

Your obedient servants. 

Richard Varick, B. Robinson, John Hone, John S. 
Crary, Wm. Johnson, Henry I. Wyckoff^ David Hosack» 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 185 

George Newbold, I. Bronson, Charles Wilkes, Lynde 
Catlin, James G. King, George Griswold, Nathaniel 
Richards, Stephen Whitney, John A. Stevens, Jonathan 
Goodhue, Frederick Sheldon, Nicholas Fish, David B. 
Ogden, H. Maxwell, C. H. Russell, Cyrus Perkins, James 
Kent, Robert Troup, William W. Woolsey, Peter A. Jay, 
Benjamin L. Swan, J. Boorman, Frederick A. Tracy, H. 
Beekman, John B. Lawrence, John Haggerty, Valentine 
Mott, Isaac S. Hone, Edward M. Greenway, David Lydig, 
E. M. Berryman, Richard M. Lawrence, John L. Law- 
rence, Cornelius W. Lawrence, Morgan Lewis, William 
Slosson, R. Sedgwick, Thomas G. Cary, Seth P. Staples. 



Washington, March 1, 1831. 
Gentlemen, 

I have received your letter of the 23d February, invit- 
ing me to a Public Dinner as a mark of your respect, for 
efforts made by me on a recent occasion, which you are 
kind enough to think were of some value to the country. 

It is impossible for me not to be highly gratified, by 
perceiving that a favorable estimate has been placed by 
you on any public service of mine. 

I accept, gentlemen, with great pleasure your proffered 
civility ; and since you leave the time to be fixed by me, 
would observe, that I shall probably be in New York on 
the 24th instant. If agreeable to you that may be the 
day. 

I have the honor to be, with true regard. 

Your obedient servant, 
DANIEL WEBSTER. 

To the Hon. James Kent, Morgan Lewis, Richard Varick, Peter A. 
Jay, &c. &c. 

The dinner was given on the 24th of March. This 
was done without distinction of parties. The lovers of 
talent and patriotism were united in this tribute of res- 
pect to one, who had so ably expounded the principles 

of the Constitution of the LTnited States, and one who 

16* 



186 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

always soared above party when anything national was 
to be considered. 

Chancellor Kent presided at this dinner, assisted by 
Peter A. Jay, John Hone, and Edward M. Greenway, 
as Vice-Presidents. It was highly gratifying to every 
reasonable man, to every good patriot, to see so many 
gentlemen of different politics, in party times, sitting at 
the same board in hamniony and good-fellowship. The 
toasts and speeches were free from any tinge of party 
feeling, and all liberal, patriotic, and unexceptionable 
in every respect. The illustrious President, known to 
the world as a judge, a chancellor and a scholar, in 
equity and jurisprudence, in the first ranks of those 
who have benefited the world by their decisions and 
commentaries, made an elegant speech complimentary 
to the guest, as introductory to a toast. 

* The President, Chancellor Kent, called the attention 
of the gentlemen to a toast, to which he was sure their 
judgments and their hearts would respond. 

' New England had been long fruitful in great men, 
the necessary consequence of the admirable discipline of 
her institutions ; and we were this day honored with the 
presence of one of those cherished objects of her attach- 
ment and pride, who has an undoubted and peculiar title 
to our regard. It is a plain truth, that he who defends 
the Constitution of his country by his wisdom in council, 
is entitled to share her gratitude with those who protect 
it by valor in the lieM. Peace has its victories as well 
as war. We all recollect a late memorable occasion, 
when the exalted talents and enlightened patriotism of 
the gentlemen to whom he had alluded, were exerted in 
the support of our national Union, and the sound inter- 
pretation of its Charter. Iftherebeany one political 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 187 

precept pre-eminent above all others, and acknowledged 
by all, it is that which dictates the absolute necessity of 
a union of the States under one government, and that 
government clothed with those attributes and powers 
with which the existing Constitution has invested it. 
We were indebted, under Providence, to the operation 
and influence of the powers of that Constitution, for our 
national honor abroad and for unexampled prosperity at 
home. Its future stability depended upon the firm sup- 
port and due exercise of its legitimate powers in all their 
branches. A tendency to disunion — to anarchy among 
the members, rather than to tyranny in the head — had 
been heretofore the melancholy fate of all the federal 
governments of ancient and modern Europe. Our Union 
and national Constitution were formed as we have hitherto 
been led to believe under better auspices and with im- 
proved wisdom. But there was a deadly principle of 
disease inherent in the system. The assumption, by 
any member of the Union, of the right to question and 
resist, or annul, as its own judgment should dictate, either 
the laws of Congress, or the treaties, or the decisions of 
the federal courts, or the mandates of the executive 
power, duly made and promulgated as the Constitution 
prescribes, was a most dangerous assumption of power, 
leading to collision and the destruction of the system. 
And if, contrary to all our expectations, we should here- 
after fail in the grand experiment of a confederate gov- 
ernment, extending over some of the fairest portions of 
this continent, and destined to act, at the same time, 
with efficiency and harmony, we should most grievously 
disappoint the hopes of mankind, and blast forever the 
fruits of the revolution. 

' But, happily for us, the refutation of such dangerous 
pretensions, on the occasion referred to, was signal and 
complete. The false images and delusive theories which 
had perplexed the thoughts and disturbed the judgments 
of men, were then dissipated in like manner as spectres 
disappear at the rising of the sun. The inestimable value 
of the Union, and the true principles of the Constitu- 



188 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

tion were explained by clear and accurate reasonings, 
and enforced by pathetic and eloquent illustrations. The 
result was the more auspicious, as the heretical doctrines, 
which were then fairly reasoned down, had been ad- 
vanced by a very respectable portion of the Union, and 
urged on the floor of the Senate by the polished mind, 
manly zeal, and honored name of a distinguished mem- 
ber of the South. 

' The consequences of that discussion have been ex- 
tremely beneficial. It turned the attention of the public 
to the great doctrines of national rights and national 
union. Constitutional law ceased to remain wrapped up 
in the breasts, and taught only by the responses of the 
living oracles of the law. Socrates was said to have 
drawn down philosophy from the skies, and scattered it 
among the schools. It may with equal truth be said that 
Constitutional law, by means of those Senatorial discus- 
sions, and the master genius that guided them, was res- 
cued from the archives of our tribunals and the libraries 
of lawyers, and placed under the eye and submitted to 
the judgment of the American people. Their verdict is 
icith us, and from it there lies no appeal.'' 

This was followed in return by a speech from Mr. 
Webster, whose animation was equal to the occasion. 
A high spirit breathed in every word, and a reverence 
bordering upon enthusiasm was extended to those de- 
parted sages, who had made sacrifices to build up our 
invaluable institutions. Standing, as it were, by the 
grave of Hamilton, the Orator drew a character of him, 
whose ashes slept beneath the sod. IVo marble monu- 
ment can eternize the dead, like the lips of truth and 
the tongue of eloquence. It was the precise moment 
for Hamilton's eulogy to be pronounced ; for many of 
those listening to the voice of the Orator knew well 



p 

LIFE OF WEBSTEE. 189 

the subject of his praise ; knew him personally ; re^ 
membered him, and what he did ; and could bear tes- 
timony that all that the eulogist said was true ; and 
that more, much more, might have been said on the 
same subject ; and yet time enough had elapsed to 
extract the sting from efnvy, and to dissipate all the 
ranklings of political strife. Other worthies were not 
forgotten on this occasion ; — Jay and Livingston, — 
names to be called up when the glories of our revolu- 
tion are to be commemorated, or our history written, — 
were brought out in relief; others were not forgotten, 
although not mentioned, for want of time. A tenth 
part of them could not be nameti in such a passing mo- 
ment. A feast of this sort Is an hour anticipated from 
that golden age which is to come ; that age of exalted 
virtue and pure intelligence, — that age when justice 
shall lift aloft her scale, and white-robed innocence de- 
scend from Heaven ; — when different natures shall live 
in peace, and harmony, and love. Whoever has spent 
his days in party-times, and has plunged into party- 
feuds,— who has brought himself to praise those he 
disliked, and has shunned those he truly respected ;— 
and all have done this, more or less, who have been 
partizans, — can tell how pleasant is such an hour of 
harmony and good feeling. 

' I owe the honor of this occasion, gentlemen, to your 
patriotic and affectionate attachment to the Constitution 
of the country. For an effort, well intended, however 
otherwise of unpretending character, made in the dis- 
charge of public duty, and designed to maintain the Con^ 



190 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

stitulion, and vindicate its just powers, you have been 
pleased to tender me this token of your respect. It 
would be idle affectation to deny that it gives me singu- 
lar gratification. Every public man must naturally de- 
sire the approbation of his fellow-citizens ; and though it 
may be supposed that I should be anxious, in the first 
place, not to disappoint the expectations of those whose 
immediate representative I am, it is not possible that I 
should not feel, nevertheless, the high value of such a 
mark of esteem as is here offered. But, gentlemen, I 
am conscious that the main purpose of this occasion is 
higher than mere manifestation of personal regard. It is 
to evince your attachment to the Constitution, and your 
just alarm, at whatever threatens to weaken its proper 
authority, or endanger its existence. 

' Gentlemen, this could be hardly otherwise. It would 
be strange, indeed, if the members of this vast commer- 
cial community should not be first and foremost to rally 
for the Constitution, whenever opinions and doctrines are 
advanced hostile to its principles. Where, sooner than 
here, where louder than here, may we expect a patriotic 
\'oice to be raised, when the union of the States is threat- 
ened ? In this great commercial emporium, at this cen- 
tral point of the united commerce of the United States, 
of all places, we may expect the warmest, the most de- 
termined, and universal feeling of attachment to the na- 
tional Constitution. Gentlemen, no one can estimate 
more highly than I do, the natural advantages of your 
city. No one entertains a higher opinion than myself, 
also, of that spirit of wise and liberal policy, which has 
actuated the Government of the State in the accomplish- 
ment of high objects, important to the growth and pros- 
perity both of the State and the city. But all these local 
advantages, and all this enlightened State policy could 
never have made your city what it now is, without the 
aid and protection of a General Government, extending 
over all the States, and establishing for all, a common 
and uniform system of commercial regulation. Without 
national character, without public credit, without syste^ 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 191 

matic finance, without uniformity of commercial laws, 
all other advantages possessed by this city, would have 
decayed and perished, like unripe fruit. A General 
Government, was, for years before it was instituted, the 
great object of desire to the inhabitants of this city. 
New- York was conscious of her local advantages for 
commerce, — she saw her destiny, and was eager to em- 
brace it ; but nothing else than a General Government 
could make free her path before her, and set her forward 
on her career. She early saw all this, and to the ac- 
complishment of this great and indispensable object, she 
bent up every faculty, and exerted every effort. She was 
not mistaken. She formed no false judgment. At the 
moment of the adoption of the Constitution, New- York 
was the capital of one State, and contained thirty-two or 
thirty-three thousand people. It now contains more than 
two hundred thousand people, and is justly regarded as 
the commercial capital, not only of all the United States, 
but of the whole continent also, from the Pole to the 
South Sea. Every page of her history, for the last forty 
years, bears high and irresistible testimony to the bene- 
fits and blessings of the General Government. Her 
astonishing growth is referred to, and quoted, all the 
world over, as one of the most striking proofs of the 
effects of our Federal Union. To suppose her now to be 
easy and indifferent, when notions are advanced tend- 
ing to its dissolution, would be to suppose her equally 
forgetful of the past, and blind to the present, alike igno 
rant of her own history, and her own interest, metamor- 
phosed from all that she has been, into a being tired of 
its prosperity, sick of its own growth and greatness, and 
infatuated for its own destruction. Every blow aimed at 
the union of the States strikes on the tenderest nerve of 
her interest and her happiness. To bring the Union 
into debate, is to bring her own future prosperity into 
debate also. To speak of arresting the laws of the 
Union, of interposing State power in matters of com- 
merce and revenue, of weakening the full and just au 
thority of the General Government, would be, in regard 



192 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

to this city, but another mode of speaking of commercial 
ruin, of abandoned wharves, of vacated houses, of dimin- 
ished and dispersing population, of bankrupt merchants, 
of mechanics without employment, and laborers without 
bread. The growth of this city, and the Constitution of 
the United States, are coevals and contemporaries. They 
began together, they have flourished together, and if 
rashness and folly destroy one, the other will follow it to 
the tomb. 

' Gentlemen, it is true, indeed, that the growth of this 
city is extraordinary and almost unexampled. It is now, 
I believe, sixteen or seventeen years, since I first saw it. 
Within that comparatively short period, it has added to 
its number three times the whole amount of its popula- 
tion when the Constitution was adopted. Of all things 
liaving pow^r to check this prosperity, of all things po- 
tent to blight and blast it, of all things capable of com- 
pelling this city to recede as fast as she has advanced, a 
disturbed gov-ernment, an enfeebled public authority, a 
broken or a weakened union of the States, would be 
sovereign. This would be cause efficient enough. Every- 
thing else, in the common fortune of communities, she 
may hope to resist, or to prevent. That would be fatal 
as the arrow of death. 

* Gentlemen, you have personal recollections and asso- 
ciations, connected with the establishment and adoption 
of the Constitution, which are necessarily called up on 
an occasion like this. It is impossible to forget the pro- 
minent agency which eminent citizens of your own ful- 
filled, in regard to that great measure. They are now 
recorded among the illustrious dead ; but they have left 
names never to be forgotten and never to be remembered 
without respect and veneration. Least of all can they be 
forgotten by you, when assembled here for the purpose of 
signifying your attachment to the Constitution, and your 
sense of its inestimable importance to the happiness of 
the people. 

' I should do violence to my own feelings, gentlemen, 
I think I sliould oflfend yours, if I omitted respectful 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 193 

mention of great names, yet fresh in your recollections. 
How can I stand here, to speak of the Constitution of 
the United States, of the wisdom of its provisions, of the 
difficulties attending its adoption, of the evils from which 
it rescued the country, and of the prosperity and power 
to which it had raised it, and yet pay no tribute to those 
who were highly instrumental in accomplishing the 
work ? While we are here, to rejoice that it yet stands 
firm and strong ; while we congratulate one another that 
we live under its benign influence, and cherish hopes of 
its long duration, we cannot forget who they were that, 
in the day of our national infancy, in the times of despon- 
dency and despair, mainly assisted to work out our de- 
liverance. I should feel that I disregarded the strong 
recollections which the occasion presses upon us, that I 
wns not true to gratitude, not true to patriotism, not true 
to the living or the dead, not true to your feelings or my 
own, if I should forbear to make mention of Alexander 
Hamilton. 

* Coming from the military service of his country, yet 
a youth, but with knowledge and maturity, even in civil 
affairs, far beyond his years, he made this city the place 
of his adoption ; and he gave the whole powers of his 
mind to the contemplation of the weak and distracted 
condition of the country. Daily increasing in acquaint- 
ance and confidence with the people of this city, he saw, 
what they also saw, the absolute necessity of some closer 
bond of union for the States. This was the great object 
of desire. He appears never to have lost sight of it, but 
was found in the lead, whenever anything was to be at- 
tempted for its accomplishment. One experiment after 
another, as is well known, was tried, and all failed. The 
States were urgently called on to confer such further 
powers on the old Congress as would enable it to redeem 
the public faith, or to adopt themselves some general and 
common principle of commercial regulation. But the 
States had not agreed, and were not likely to agree. In 
this posture of affairs, so full of public diflSculty, and 

17 



194 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

public distress, Commissioners from five or six of the 
States met, on the request of Virginia, at Annapolis, in 
September, 1786. The precise object of their appoint- 
ment was, to take into consideration the trade of the 
United States ; to examine the relative situations and 
trade of the several States ; and to consider how far a 
uniform system of commercial regulations was necessary 
to their common interest and permanent harmony. Mr. 
Hamilton was one of these Commissioners ; and I have 
understood, though I cannot assert the fact, that their 
Report was drawn by him. His associate from this 
State was the venerable Judge Benson, who has lived 
long, and still lives, to see the happy results of the coun- 
sels which originated in this meeting. Of its members, 
he and Mr. Madison are, I believe, now the only survi- 
vors. These Commissioners recommended, what took 
place the next year, a general Convention of all the 
States, to take into serious deliberation the condition of 
the country, and devise such provisions as should render 
the Constitution of the Federal Government adequate to 
the exigencies of the Union. I need not remind you, 
that of this Convention, Mr. Hamilton was an active and 
efficient member. The Constitution was framed, and 
submitted to the country. And then another great work 
was to be undertaken. The Constitution would natu- 
rally find, and did find enemies and opposers. Objec- 
tions to it were numerous, and powerful, and spirited. 
They were to be answered ; and they were, effectually 
answered. The writers of the numbers of the Federal- 
ist, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Madison, and Mr. Jay, so greatly 
distinguished themselves in their discussions of the Con- 
stitution, that those numbers are generally received as 
important commentaries on the text and accurate exposi- 
tions, in general, of its objects and purposes. Those 
papers were all written and published in this city. Mr. 
Hamilton was elected one of the distinguished delegation 
from the city, into the State Convention at Poughkeepsie, 
called to ratify the new Constitution. Its debates are 
published. Mr. Hamilton appears to have exerted, on 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 195 

this occasion, to the utmost, every power and faculty of 
his mind. 

' The whole question was likely to depend on the deci- 
sion of New York. He felt the full importance of the 
crisis ; and the reports of his speeches, imperfect as they 
probably are, are yet lasting monuments to his genius and 
patriotism. He saw at last his hopes fulfilled ; he saw 
the Constitution adopted, and the government under it 
established and organized. The discerning eye of 
Washington immediately called him to that post, infinite- 
ly the most important, in the administration of the new 
system. He was made Secretary of the Treasury ; and 
how he fulfilled the duties of such a place, at such a 
time, the whole country perceived, with delight, and the 
whole world saw, with admiration. He smote the rock 
of the national resources, and abundant streams of reve- 
nue gushed forth. He touched the dead corpse of the 
Public Credit, and it sprung upon its feet. — The fabled 
birth of Minerva from the brain of Jove, was hardly more 
sudden, or more perfect than the financial system of the 
United States, burst forth from the conceptions of Alex- 
ander Ha.milton. 

* Your recollections, gentlemen, your respect, and your 
affections, all conspire to bring before you, at such a time 
as this, another great man, now, too, numbered with the 
dead. I mean the pure, the disinterested, the patriotic 
John Jay. His character is a brilliant jewel in the sa- 
cred treasures of national reputation. Leaving his pro- 
fession at an early period, yet not before he had singu- 
larly distinguished himself in it, from the commencement 
of the Revolution, his whole life, until his final retire- 
ment, was a life of public service. A member of the 
first Congress, he was the author of that political paper 
which is generally acknowledged to stand first among 
the incomparable productions of that body : papers, which 
called forth that decisive strain of commendation from 
the great Lord Chatham, in which he pronounced them 
not inferior to the finest productions of the master states- 
men of the world. He had been abroad, and he had 



196 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

also been long intrusted with the diJSicult duties of our 
foreign correspondence at home. He had seen and felt, 
in the fullest measure, and to the greatest possible ex- 
tent, the difficulty of conducting our foreign affairs, hon- 
orably and usefully, without a stronger and more perfect 
Union at home. Though not a member of the Conven- 
tion which framed the Constitution, he was yet present 
while it was in session, and looked anxiously for its re- 
sult. By the choice of this city, he had a seat in the 
State Convention, and took an active and zealous part^ 
for the adoption of the Constitution. He was selected 
by Washington to be the first Chief Justice of the United 
States ; and surely the high and most responsible duties 
of that station, could not have been trusted to abler or 
safer hands. It is the duty, one of equal importance and 
delicacy, of that tribunal, to decide constitutional ques- 
tions, arising occasionally on State laws. The general 
learning and ability, and especially the prudence, the 
mildness, and the firmness of his character, eminently 
fitted Mr. Jay to be the head of such court. When the 
spotless ermine of the judicial robe fell on John Jay, it 
touched nothing not as spotless as itself. These eminent 
men, gentlemen, the contemporaries of some of you, known 
to most, and revered by all, were so conspicuous in the 
framing and adopting of the Constitution, and called so 
early to important stations under it, that a tribute, better, 
indeed, than I have given, or am able to give, seemed 
due to them from us. There was yet another, of whom 
mention is to be made. In the revolutionary history of 
the country, the name of Chancellor Livingston became 
early prominent. He was a member of that Congress 
which declared Independence ; and a member, too, of 
the committee which drew and reported the immortal 
Declaration. At the period of the adoption of the Con« 
stitution, he was its firm friend and able advocate. He 
was a member of the State Convention, being one of 
that list of distinguished and gifted men, who represent- 
ed this city in that body ; and threw the whole weight of 
his talents and influence into the doubtful scale of the 
Constitution. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 197 

* Gentlemen, as connected with the Constitution, you 
have also local recollections which must bind it still closer 
to your attachment and affection. It commenced its 
being and its blessings here. It was in this city, in the 
midst of friends, anxious, hopeful, and devoted, that the 
new Government started in its course. To us, gentle- 
men, who are younger, it has come down by tradition ; 
but some around me are old enough to have witnessed, 
and did witness, the interesting scene of the first Inau- 
guration. They remember what voices of gratified pa- 
triotism, what shouts of enthusiastic hope, what accla- 
mations, rent the air — how many eyes were suffused with 
tears of joy — how cordially each man pressed the hand 
of him who was next to him, when, standing in the open 
air, in the centre of the city, in the view of assembled 
thousands, the first President was heard solemnly to pro- 
nounce the words of his official oath, repeating them from 
the lips of Chancellor Livingston. You then thought, 
gentlemen, that the great work of the Revolution was ac- 
complished. You then felt that you had a Government 
— that the United States were then, indeed, united. Eve- 
ry benignant star seemed to shed its selectest influence 
on that auspicious hour. Here were heroes of the 
Revolution ; here were sages of the Convention ; here 
were minds, disciplined and schooled in all the various 
fortunes of the country, acting now in various relations, 
but all co-operating to the same great end, the successful 
administration of the new and untried Constitution. And 
he — how shall I speak of him ? — he was at the head, who 
was already first in war — who was already first in the 
hearts of his countrymen, — and who was now shown 
also, by the unanimous suffrage of the country, to be first 

in peace. 

' Gentlemen, how gloriously have the hopes, then in- 
dulged, been fulfilled ! Whose expectation was then so 
sanguine — I may almost ask whose imagination then so 
extravagant, as to run fjrward and contemplate as proba- 
ble, the one half of what has been accomplished in forty 

17* 



198 LIFE OF WEBSTER, 

years 1 Who among you can go back to 1789, and see 
what this city, and this country too, then were — and then 
beholding what they now are, can be ready to consent 
that the Constitution of the United States shall now be 
weakened, nullified, or dishonored 1 

* Gentlemen, before I leave these pleasant recollections. 
I feel it an irresistible impulse of duty to pay a tribute of 
respect to another distinguished person, not, indeed, a 
fellow-citizen of your own, but associated with those I 
have already mentioned, in important labors, and an early 
and indefatigable friend and advocate in a great cause 
of the Constitution. Gentlemen, I refer lo Mr. Madi- 
son. I am aware, gentlemen, that a tribute of regard 
from me to him is of little importance ; but if it shall 
receive your approbation and sanction, it will become of 
value. Mr. Madison, thanks to a kind Providence, is 
yet among the living, and there is certainly no other in- 
dividual living to whom the country is so much indebted 
for the blessings of the Constitution. He was one of the 
Commissioners at Annapolis, in 1786, at the meeting, of 
which I have already spoken ; a meeting, which to the 
great credit of Virginia, had its origin in a proceeding ol 
that State. He was a member of the Convention of 
1789, and of that of Virginia the following year. He was 
thus intimately acquainted with the whole progress of 
the formation of the Constitution, from its very first 
step to its final adoption. If ever man had the means of 
understanding a written instrument, Mr. Madison has the 
means of understanding the Constitution. If it be possi- 
ble to know what was designed by it, he can tell us. It 
was in this city, that in conjunction with Mr. Hamilton 
and Mr. Jay, he wrote the numbers of the Federalist; 
and it was in this city that he commenced his brilliant 
career, under the new Constitution, having been elected 
into the House of Representatives of the first Congress. 
The recorded votes and debates of those times, show his 
active and elhcient agency in every important measure 
of that Congress. The necessary organization of the 
Government, the arrangement of the Departments, and 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 199 

especially the paramount subject of revenue engaged his 
attention, and shared his labors. The legislative history 
of the first two or three years of the Government is full 
of instruction. It presents, in striking light, the evils 
intended to be remedied by the Constitution, and the pro- 
visions which were deemed essential to the remedy of 
those evils. It exhibits the country, in the moment of 
its change, from a weak and ill-defined confederacy of 
States, into a general, efficient, but still restrained and 
limited government. It shows the first working of our 
peculiar system, moved, as it then was, by master-hands. 

' Gentlemen, for one, I confess, I like to dwell on this 
part of our history. It is good for us to be here. It is 
good for us to study the situation of the country at this 
period, to survey its difficulty, to look at the conduct of 
its public men, to see how they struggle with obstacles, 
real and formidable, and how gloriously they brought 
the country out of its state of depression and distress. 
Truly, gentlemen, these founders and fathers of the Con- 
stitution were great men, and thoroughly furnished for 
every good work. All that reading and learning could 
do, all that talent and intelligence could do, and what 
perhaps is still more — all that long experience, in difficult 
and troubled times, and a deep and intimate practical 
knowledge of the condition of the country could do, con- 
spired to fit them for the great business of forming a gen- 
eral, but limited government, embracing common objects, 
extending over all the States, and yet touching the power 
of the States no farther than those common objects re- 
quire. I confess, I love to linger around these original 
fountains, and to drink deep of their waters. I love to 
imbibe, in as full measure as I may, the spirit of those 
who laid the foundations of the government, and so wisely 
and skillfully balanced and adjusted its bearings and 
proportions. 

' Having been afterwards, for eight years. Secretary of 
State, ?jid as long President, Mr. Madison has had an 
experience in the affairs of the Constitution, certainly 
second to no man. More than any other man living, and 



200 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

perhaps more than any other who has lived, his whole 
public life has been incorporated, as it were, into the 
Constitution ; in the original conception and project of 
attempting to form it, in its actual framing, in explaining 
and recommending it, by speaking and writing, in as- 
sisting at the first organization of the Government under 
it, and in a long administration of its executive powers, 
in those various ways he has lived near the Constitution, 
and with the power of imbibing its true spirit, and inhal- 
ing its very breath, from its first pulsation of life. Again, 
therefore, I ask, if he cannot tell us what the Constitu- 
tion is, and what it means, who can ? He had retired 
with the respect and regard of the community, and might 
naturally be supposed not willing to interfere again in 
matters of political concern. He has, nevertheless, not 
withholden his opinions on the vital question discussed 
on that occasion, which has caused this meeting. He 
has stated with an accuracy almost peculiar to himself, 
and so stated, as, in my opinion, to place almost beyond 
further controversy, the true doctrines of the Constitu- 
tion. He has stated, not notions too loose and irregular 
to be called even a theory, — not ideas struck out by the 
feeling of present inconvenience or supposed mal-admin- 
istration, — not suggestions of expediency, or evasions of 
fair and straight-forward construction, — but elementary 
principles, clear and sound distinctions, and indispensa- 
ble truths. I am sure, gentlemen, that I speak your 
sentiments, as well as my own, when I say, that 'for 
making public so clearly and distinctly as he has done, 
his own opinions on these vital questions of Constitutional 
law, Mr. Madison has founded a new and strong claim 
on the gratitude of a grateful country. You will think 
with me, that at his advanced age, and in the enjoyment 
of general respect and approbation, for a long career of 
public services, it was an act of distinguished patriotism, 
when he saw notions promulgated and maintained, which 
he deemed unsound and dangerous, not to hesitate to come 
forward, and to place the weight of his own opinion in 
what he deemed the right scale, come what might come. 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 201 

I am sure, gentlemen, it cannot be doubted, — the manifes- 
tation is clear, — that the country feels gratefully the force 
of this new obligation. 

' Gentlemen, what I have said of the benefits of the 
Constitution to your city, might be said, with little change, 
in every other part of the country. Its benefits are not 
exclusive. What has it left undone, which any Govern- 
ment could do, for the whole country ] In what condi- 
tion has it placed us ? Where do we now stand 2 Are we 
elevated or degraded by its operation ? What is our con- 
dition under its influence, at the very moment when some 
talk of arresting its power and breaking its unity 1 Do 
we not feel ourselves on an eminence l Do we not chal- 
lenge the respect of the whole world 1 What has placed 
us thus high ? What has given us this just pride 1 What 
else is it, but the unrestrained and free operation of that 
same Federal Constitution, which it has been proposed 
now to hamper, and manacle, and nullify ? Who is there 
among us, that should find himself on any spot of the 
earth, where human beings exist, and where the exist- 
ence of other nations is known, that would not be proud 
to say, I am an American ? I am a countryman of Wash- 
ington ? I am a citizen of that Republic, which, although 
it has suddenly sprung up, yet there are none on the 
globe who have ears to hear, and have not heard of it, — 
who have eyes to see, and have not read of it, — who know 
any thing, and yet do not know of its existence and its 
glory ? — And, gentlemen, let me now reverse the picture. 
Let me ask, who there is among us, if he were to be 
found to-morrow in one of the civilized countries of Eu- 
rope, and were there to learn that this goodly form of 
Government had been overthrown, — that the United 
States were no longer united, — that a death-blow had 
been struck upon their bond of union, — that they them- 
selves had destroyed their chief good and their chief 
honor, — who is there, whose heart w^ould not sink within 
him ? Who is there "who w'ould not cover his face for 
very shame ? 

' At this very moment, gentlemen, our country is a gen- 



202 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

eral refuge for the distressed and the persecuted of other 
nations. Whoever is in affliction from political occur- 
rences in his own country, looks here for shelter. Whe- 
ther he be republican, flying from the oppression of 
thrones, — or whether he be monarch or monarchist, fly- 
ing from thrones that crumble and fall under or around 
him, — he feels equal assurance, that if he get foot-hold 
on our soil, his person is safe, and his rights will be res- 
pected. 

' And who will venture to say, that in any Govern- 
ment, now existing in the world, there is greater security 
for persons or property than in the United States ? We 
have tried these popular institutions in times of great ex- 
citement and commotion ; they have stood substantially 
firm and steady, while the fountains of the great political 
deep have been elsewhere broken up ; while thrones, 
resting on ages of proscription, have tottered and fallen ; 
and while, in other countries, the earthquake of unre- 
strained popular commotion has swallowed up all law, 
and all liberty, and all right together, our Government 
has been tried in peace, and it has been tried in war ; 
and has proved itself fit for both. It has been assailed 
from without, and successfully resisted the shock ; it has 
been disturbed within, and has effectually quieted the 
disturbance. It can stand trial, — it can stand assault, — 
it can stand adversity, — it can stand everything but the 
marring of its own beauty, and the weakening of its own 
strength. It can stand everything, but the effects of our 
own rashness, and our own folly. It can stand every- 
thing, but disorganization, disunion, and nullification. 

* It is a striking fact, and as true as it is striking, that 
at this very moment, among all the principal civilized 
States of the world, that Government is most secure 
against the danger of popular commotion, which is itself 
entirely popular. It seems, indeed, that the submission 
of everything to the public will, under Constitutional re- 
straints, imposed by the people themselves, furnishes, it- 
self, security that that will desire nothing wrong. 

* Certain it is, that popular Constitutional liberty, as 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 203 

we enjoy it, appears, in the present state of the world, as 
sure and stable a basis for Government to rest upon, as 
any Government of enlightened States can find, or does 
find. Certain it is, that in these times of so much popu- 
lar knowledge, and so much popular activity, those Gov- 
ernments which do not admit the people to partake in 
their administration, but keep the people under and be- 
neath, sit on materials for an explosion, which may take 
place at any moment, and blow them into a thousand 
atoms. 

* Gentlemen, let any man who would degrade and en- 
feeble the national Constitution, — let any man who would 
nullify its laws, stand forth and tell us what he would 
wish. What does he propose ? Whatever he may be, 
and whatever substitute he may hold forth, I am sure the 
people of this country will decline his kind interference, 
and hold on by the Constitution which they possess. 
Any one who would willingly destroy it, I rejoice to 
know would be looked upon with abhorrence. It is 
deeply entrenched in the regards of the people. Doubt- 
less, it may be undermined by artful and long continued 
hostility ; it may be imperceptibly weakened by secret 
attack ; it may be insidiously shorn of its powers by slow 
degrees ; the public vigilance may be lulled, and when it 
awakes, it may find the Constitution frittered away. In 
these modes, or some of them, doubtless, it is possible 
that the union of the States may be dissolved. 

' But if the general attention of the people be kept 
alive, — if they see the intended mischief before it is ef- 
fected, they will effectually prevent it by their own sov- 
ereign power. They will interpose themselves between 
the meditated blow, and the object of their regard and 
attachment. Gentlemen, next to the controlling authority 
of the people themselves, the preservation of the Govern- 
ment is mainly committed to those who administer it. If 
conducted in wisdom, it cannot but stand strong. Its 
genuine original spirit is a patriotic, liberal, and gene- 
rous spirit ; a spirit of conciliation, of moderation, of can- 
dor, and charity ; a spirit of friendship, and not a spirit 



I 



204 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

of hostility, with the States ; a spirit, careful not to ex- 
ceed, and equally careful not to relinquish its just pow- 
ers. While no interest can or ought to feel itself shut 
out from the benefits of the Constitution, none should 
consider those benefits as exclusively its own. The in- 
terests of all must be connected, and reconciled, and pro- 
vided for, as far as possible, that all may perceive the 
benefits of a united Government. 

' Among other things, we are to remember that, since 
the adoption of the Constitution, new States have arisen, 
possessing already an immense population, spreading and 
thickening over vast regions, which were a wilderness 
when the Constitution was adopted. Those States are 
not like New- York, directly connected with maritime 
commerce. They are entirely agricultural, and need 
markets for consumption, and access to those markets. 
It is the duty of the Government to bring the interests of 
these new States into the Union, and incorporate them 
closely in the family compact. Gentlemen, it is not im- 
practicable to reconcile these various interests, and so to 
administer the Government as to make it useful to all. 
It was never easier to administer the Government than it 
is now. We are beset with none, or with few, of its 
original difficulties ; and it is a time of great general 
prosperity and happiness. Shall we admit ourselves in- 
competent to carry on the Government, so as to be satis- 
factory to the whole country ? Shall we admit that there 
has so little descended to us of the wisdom and prudence 
of our fathers? If the Government could be administered 
in Washington's time, when it was yet new, when the 
country was heavily in debt, when foreign relations were 
threatening, and when Indian wars pressed on the fron- 
tiers, can it not be administered now ? Let us not ac- 
knowledge ourselves so unequal to our duties. 

* Gentlemen, on the occasion referred to, it became 
necessary to consider the judicial power, and its proper 
functions under the Constitution. In every free and bal- 
anced Government, this is a most essential and important 
power. Indeed, I think it is a remark of Mr. Hume, 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 205 

that the administration of justice seems to be the leading 
object of institutions of Government ; that Legislatures 
assemble, that armies are embodied, that both war and 
peace are made, with a sort of ultimate reference to the 
proper administration of laws, and the judicial protection 
of private rights. The judicial power comes home to 
every man. If the Legislature passes incorrect or un- 
just general laws, its members bear the evil as well as 
others. But judicature acts on individuals. It touches 
every private right, every private interest, and almost 
every private feeling. What we possess is hardly fit to 
be called our own, unless we feel secure in its posses- 
sion : and this security, this feeling of perfect safety, 
cannot exist under a wicked, or even under a weak and 
ignorant administration of the laws. There is no happi- 
ness, there is no liberty, there is no enjoyment of life, 
unless a man can say when he rises in the morning, I 
shall be subject to the decision of no unjust judge to- 
day. 

' But, gentlemen, the Judicial Department under the 
Constitution of the United States, possesses still higher 
duties. It is true that it may be called on, and is occa- 
sionally called on to decide questions, which are, in one 
sense, of a political nature. The General and State 
Governments, both established by the people, are estab- 
lished for different purposes, and with different powers. 
Between those powers questions may arise, and who shall 
decide them ? Some provision for this end is absolutely 
necessary, — What shall it be ? This was the question be- 
fore the Convention ; and various schemes were suggested. 
It was foreseen, that the States might inadvertently pass 
laws, inconsistent with the Constitution of the tFnited 
States, or with acts of Congress. At least, laws might 
be passed, which would be charged with such inconsist- 
ency. How should these questions be disposed of? 
Where shall the power of judging, in cases of alleged in- 
terference, be lodged? One suggestion, in the Convention, 
was to make it an executive power, and to lodge in the 

18 



206 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

hands of the President, by requiring all State laws to be 
submitted to him, that he might negative such as he 
thought appeared repugnant to the general Constitution. 
This idea, perhaps, may have been borrowed from the 
power exercised by the crown, over the laws of the Colo- 
nies. It would evidently have been not only an incon- 
venient and troublesome proceeding, but dangerous, also, 
to the powers of the States. It was not pressed. It was 
thought wiser and safer, on the whole, to require State 
legislatures and State judges to take an oath to support 
the Constitution of the United States, and then leave the 
States at liberty to pass whatever laws they pleased, and 
if interference, in points of fact, should arise, to refer the 
question to judicial decision. To this end, the judicial 
power, under the Constitution of the United States, was 
made co-extensive with the legislative power. It was 
extended to all cases arising under the Constitution and 
the laws of Congress. The Judiciary became thus pos- 
sessed of the authority of deciding, in the last resort, in 
all cases of alleged interference, between State Laws and 
the Constitution, and laws of Congress. 

* Gentlemen, — This is the actual Constitution, — This 
the law of the land. There may be those, who think it 
unnecessary, or who would prefer a different mode of de- 
ciding such questions. But this is the established mode, 
and till it be altered, the Courts can no more decline 
their duty, on these occasions, than on other occasions. 
But, gentlemen, can any reasonable man doubt the ex- 
pediency of this provision, or suggest a better ? Is it not 
absolutely essential to the peace of the country, that this 
power should exist somewhere ? Where can it exist, bet- 
ter than where it now does exist? The national Judi- 
ciary is the common tribunal of the whole country. It 
is organized by the common authority, and its places 
filled by the common agent. This is a plain and practi- 
cal provision. It was framed by no bunglers, nor by any 
wild theorists. And who can say, that it has failed? 
Who can find substantial fault, with its operation or its 
results ? The great question is, whether we shall provide 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 207 

for the peaceable decision of cases of collision. Shall 
they be decided by law, or by force ? Shall the decisions 
be decisions of peace, or decisions of war ? 

' On the occasion referred to, the proposition con- 
tended for, was, that every State, under certain supposed 
exigencies, and in certain supposed cases, might decide 
for itself, and act for itself, and oppose its own force to 
the execution of the laws. By what argument, do you 
imagine, gentlemen, it was, that such a proposition was 
maintained 1 I should call it metaphysical, and subtle ; 
but these terms would imply at least ingenuity, and some 
degree of plausibility ; whereas the argument appears to 
me plain assumption, mere perverse construction of plain 
language, in the body of the Constitution itself As I 
understand it, when put forth in its revised and most au- 
thentic shape, it is this ; that the Constitution provides, 
that any amendments may be made to it, which shall be 
agreed to by three-fourths of the States ; there is, there- 
fore, to be nothing in the Constitution to which three- 
fourths of the States have not agreed. All this is true ; 
but then comes this inference, viz. : that when one State 
denies the constitutionality of any law of Congress, she 
may arrest its execution as to herself, and keep it ar- 
rested, till the States can all be consulted, by their con- 
ventions, and three-fourths of them shall have decided 
that the law is constitutional. Indeed the inference is 
still stranger than this ; for State Conventions have no 
authority to construe the Constitution, though they have 
authority to amend it; therefore the argument must 
prove, if it prove anything, that when any one State de- 
nies that any particular power is included in the Consti- 
tution, it is to be considered as not included, and cannot 
be found there, till three-fourths of the States agree to 
insert it. In short, the result of the whole is, that though 
it requires three-fourths of the States to insert anything 
into the Constitution, yet any one State can strike any- 
thing out of it. For the power to strike out, and the 
power of deciding, without appeal, upon the construction 



208 LIFE OF WEBSTER, 

of what is already in, are substantially and practically the 



same. 



' And, gentlemen, what a spectacle should we have 
exhibited, under the actual operation of notions like 
these ? At the very moment when our Government was 
quoted, praised, and commended all over the world ; 
when the friends of Republican Liberty, everywhere, 
were gazing at it with delight, and were in perfect ad- 
miration at the harmony of its movements, one State steps 
forth, and by the power of nullification, breaks up the 
whole system, and scatters the bright chain of the Union 
into as many sundered links as there are separate States! 

' Seeing the true grounds of the Constitution thus at- 
tacked, I raised my voice in its favor, I must confess, 
with no preparation, or previous intention. I can hardly 
say that I embarked in the contest from a sense of duty. 
It was an instantaneous impulse of inclination, not acting 
against duty, I trust, but hardly waiting for its sugges- 
tions. I felt it to be a contest for the integrity of the 
Constitution ; and I was ready to enter into it, not think- 
ing, or caring, personally, how I might come out. 

* Gentlemen, — I have true pleasure in saying, that I 
trust the crisis has, in some measure, passed by. The 
doctrines of nullification have received a severe and stern 
rebuke from public opinion. The general reprobation of 
the country has been cast upon them. Recent expres- 
sions of the most numerous branch of the national legis- 
lature are decisive and imposing. Everywhere, the gen- 
eral tone of public feeling is for the Constitution. While 
much will be yielded, every thing almost but the integ- 
rity of the Constitution, and the essential interests of the 
country, to the cause of mutual harmony, and mutual 
conciliation, on ground can be granted, not an inch, to 
menace and bluster. Indeed, menace, and bluster, and the 
putting forth of daring unconstitutional doctrines, are, at 
this very moment, the chief obstacles to mutual harmony, 
and satisfactory accommodation. Men cannot well rea- 
son, and confer, and take counsel together, about the dis- 
creet exercise of a power, with those who deny that any 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 209 

such power rightfully exists, and who threaten to blow 
up the whole Constitution, if they cannot otherwise get 
rid of its operation. It is matter of sincere gratification, 
gentlemen, that the voice of this great State has been so 
clear and strong, and her vote, all but unanimous, on the 
most interesting of these occasions, in the House of Rep- 
resentatives. Certainly such respect to the Union be- 
comes New-York. It is consistent with her interests 
and her character. That singularly prosperous State, — 
which now is, and is likely to continue to be, the great- 
est link in the chain of the Union, — will ever be, it is to 
be hoped, the strongest link also. The great States 
which lie in her neighborhood agreed with her fully in 
this matter. Pennsylvania, I believe, was loyal to the 
Union, to a man ; and Ohio raises her voice, like that of 
a lion, against whatsoever threatens disunion and dis- 
memberment. This harmony of sentiment is truly grati- 
fying. It is not to be gainsaid that the union of opinion, 
in this great central mass of our population, on this mo- 
mentous point of the Constitution, augurs well for our 
future prosperity and security. 

* I have said, gentlemen, what I verily believe to be 
true, that there is no danger to the Union from open 
and avowed attacks on its essential principles. Nothing 
is to be feared from those who will march up boldly to 
their own propositions, and tell us that they mean to an- 
nihilate powers exercised by Congress. But, certainly, 
there are dangers to the Constitution, and we ought not 
to shut our eyes to them. We know the importance of 
a firm and intelligent Judiciary ; but how shall we se- 
cure the continuance of a firm and intelligent Judiciary? 
Gentlemen, the Judiciary is in the appointment of the 
executive power. It cannot continue or renew itself. 
Its vacancies are to be filled in the ordinary modes of 
executive appointment. If the time shall ever come, 
which Heaven avert ! when men shall be placed in the 
supreme tribunal of the country, who entertain opinions 
hostile to the just powers of the Constitution, we shall 

18* 



210 LIFE OF WEBSTER* 

then be visited by an evil defying all remedy. Our case 
will be " past surgery." From that moment the Consti- 
tution is at an end. If they who are appointed to defend 
the castle shall betray it, woe betide those within ! If I 
live to see that day come, I shall despair of the country. 
I shall be prepared to give it back to all its former afflic- 
tions, in the days of the confederation. I know no secu- 
rity, gentlemen, against the possibility of this evil, but 
an awakened public vigilance. I know no safety, but in 
that state of public opinion which shall lead it to rebuke 
and put down every attempt, either to gratify party, by 
Judicial appointments, or to dilute the Constitution, by 
creating a court which shall construe away its provisions. 
If members of Congress betray their trust, the people 
will find it out before they are ruined. If the President 
should, at any time, violate his duty, his term of office is 
short, and popular elections may supply a seasonable 
remedy. But the Judges of the Supreme Court possess, 
for very good reasons, an independent tenure of office. 
No election reaches them. If, with this tenure, they 
betray their trusts. Heaven save us ! Let us hope for bet- 
ter results. The past, certainly, may encourage us. Let 
us hope that we shall never see the time, when there 
shall exist such an awkward posture of affairs, as that 
the Government shall be found in opposition to the Con- 
stitution, and v/hen the guardians of the Union shall be- 
come its betrayers. 

* Gentlemen, our country stands, at the present time, 
on commanding ground. Older nations, with diiferent 
systems of government, may be somewhat slow to ac- 
knowledge all that justly belongs to us. But we may 
feel, without vanity, that America is doing her part, in 
the great work of improving human affairs. There are 
two principles, gentlemen, strictly and purely American, 
which are now likely to overrun the civilized world. In- 
<leed they seem the necessary result of the progress of 
civilization and knowledge. These are, first, popular 
Governments, restrained by written Constitutions ; and, 
secondly, universal education. Popular Governments 



LtFE OF WEBSTER. 211 

and general education, acting, and re-acting, mutually 
producing and re-producing each other, are the mighty 
agencies which, in our days, appear to be exciting, stim- 
ulating, and changing civilized societies. Man every- 
where is now found demanding a participation in Gov- 
ernment ; and he will not be refused ; and he demands 
knowledge as necessary to self-government. On the 
basis of these two principles, liberty and knowledge, our 
own American System rests. Thus far we have not 
been disappointed in their results. Our existing institu- 
tions, raised on these foundations, have conferred on us 
almost unmixed happiness. Do we not hope to better 
our condition by change ? When we shall have nullified 
the present Constitution, what are we to receive in its 
place? As fathers do we wish for our children better 
Government, or better laws ? As members of society, as 
lovers of our country, is there anything we can desire for 
it better than that, as ages and centuries roll over it, it 
may possess the same invaluable institutions which it 
now enjoys? For my part, gentlemen, I can only say, 
that I desire to thank the beneficent Author of all good, 
for being born ivliere I was born, and when I was born ; 
that the portion of human existence, allotted to me, has 
been meted out to me in this goodly land, and at this in- 
teresting period. I rejoice that I have lived to see so 
much developement of truth, — so much progress of lib- 
erty, — so much diffusion of virtue and happiness. And 
through good report, and evil report, it will be my conso- 
lation to be a citizen of a Republic, unequalled in the 
annals of the world, for the freedom of its institutions, its 
high prosperity, and the prospects of good which yet lie 
before it. Our course, gentlemen, is onward, straight 
onward, and forward. Let us not turn to the right hand 
nor to the left. Our path is marked out for us, clear, 
plain, bright, distinctly defined, like the milky-way across 
the heavens. If we are true to our country, in our day 
and generation, and those who come after us, shall be 
true to it also, assuredly, assuredly, we shall elevate her 
to a pitch of prosperity and happiness, of honor and 



212 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

power, never yet reached by any nation beneath the 



sun. 



' Gentlemen, before I resume my seat, a highly grati- 
fying duty remains to be performed. In signifying your 
sentiments of regard, you have kindly chosen to select as 
your organ for expressing them, the eminent person near 
whom I stand. I feel, I cannot well say how sensibly, 
the manner in which he has seen fit to speak on this oc- 
casion. Gentlemen, if I may be supposed to have made 
any attainment in the knowledge of constitutional law, 
he is among the masters in whose schools I have been 
taught. You see near him a distinguished magistrate, 
long associated with him in judicial labors, which have 
conferred lasting benefits, and lasting character, not only 
on the State, but on the whole country. Gentlemen, I 
acknowledge myself much their debtor. While yet a 
youth, unknown, and with little expectation of becoming 
known, beyond a very limited circle, I have passed days 
and nights, not of tedious, but of happy and gratified 
labor, in the study of the judicature of the State of New- 
York. I am most happy to have this opportunity of pub- 
licly acknowledging the obligation, and of repaying it, so 
far as it can be repaid, by the poor tribute of my profound 
regard, and most sincere good wishes. 

' Gentlemen, I will no longer detain you, than to pro- 
pose a toast. 

' " The city of New- York ; herself the noblest eulogy 
on the Union of the States." ' 

On reviewing the numerous publications of Mr. 
Webster, we are astonished at the amount of his la- 
bors ; and particularly when we reflect that these pub- 
lished speeches are, in fact, but a small part of what 
might have been brought out, if he would have con- 
sented to have them issue from the press. Those we 
have, abound in useful information, and have a direct 
})earing upon the welfare of the country. He has 



LtFE OF WEBSTER. Si 3 

made himself master of our history, and that of other 
countries, to devolope the principles on which our Re- 
public is founded ; he makes use of every fair argu- 
ment to enforce these principles, and spares no pains 
to explain them to the humblest capacity. Nothing 
has escaped him in the rise and progress of our country 
to that prosperity and dignity to which she may justly 
lay claim. His is a profound view of things, — from 
the river he has ascended to the fountain, and tasted 
of the waters as they gushed from the mountain side. 
He has put the Governments and laws of all ancient 
time into the alembic of his mind, and the crude 
earths, and meaner minerals are separated from the 
precious ores. These writings are so full of matter, 
and that so useful, that they will form a text-book, and 
an authority on all great constitutional questions in 
time to come. These writings have all a high moral 
character. There are no local feelings, — no sectional 
views, — which make party-strife, and injure the dig- 
nity of a people, wherever and whenever they are in- 
dulged ; — they relate to the country, — to the whole 
country, — and not for any particular portion of time, 
but now and forever. Every thing about his works is \ 
moral ; his politics, — his history, — his science, — and 
his letters, are marked by a strong morality, — one in- 
timately connected with faith, hope, and charity, the / 
constituents of religion. 

His works ai'e invaluable, as models for our rising 
generations of public men, who are to give us laws in 



A 



214 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

time to come, and direct the destinies of the nation. 
His works are chaste, and sometimes severe, in their 
style of composition ; direct, nervous, and command- 
ing ; full of vigor, — Roman vigor. There are no re- 
laxed muscles, — no feeble spots about them, — ^in their 
motion, or their repose, they exhibit the spirit of anti- 
quity. He asks for no other inspiration than that 
which flows from the fountains of truth, as opened by 
the Genius of History. Elevated by the copious 
draughts he has drank, he gathers lessons of wisdom 
from the course of time, and pours them out for his 
country, — that country whose glories are wound around 
his heart, and burn upon his lips, a living flame. 

It is common for men to find resemblances where 
none exist, and to run parallels where there are no re- 
semblances. The moderns go back to the ancients, and 
each great man finds his prototype in the ages which 
have past. The writer of these remarks will not ran- 
sack the pages of ancient history for resemblances, but 
simply ask permission of the reader to quote the fol- 
lowing observations upon the great Athenian orator, 
and his works, made by two of the best critics of the 
present age, — Chalmers and Blair, — and, then leave 
the reader to find what similarity he may between the 
American and Grecian orator. 

* These orations are strongly animated, and abounding 
with the impetuosity and fire of public spirit. The figures 
which he uses, rise naturally from the subject, and are 
employed sparingly, for splendor and ornament do not 
distinguish the compositions of Demosthenes. His cha- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 215 

racter, as an orator, depends upon an energy of thought 
peculiar to himself, which elevates him above all others. 
Things, not words, appear to be the objects of his atten- 
tion. He has no parade and ostentation ; no methods of 
insinuation ; no labored introductions ; but like a man 
fully possessed by his subject, after preparing his au- 
dience by a sentence or two for hearing plain truths, he 
enters directly on business, warming the mind, and im- 
pelling to action. 

' His style is strong and concise, though sometimes, it 
must not be dissembled, harsh and abrupt. His words 
are very expressive ; his arrangement is firm and manly ; 
and though far from being unmusical, yet it seems diffi- 
cult to find in him that studied but concealed number 
and rhythm, which some of the ancient critics are fond 
of attributing to him. Negligent of these lesser graces, 
one would rather conceive him to have arrived at the 
sublime, which lies in sentiment. 

' His action and pronunciation are recorded to have 
been uncommonly vehement and ardent ; which from the 
manner of his composition, we are led to believe. He is, 
on every occasion, grave, serious, passionate, taking 
everything in a high tone ; never lets himself down, nor 
attempts anything like pleasantry. If any fault can be 
found with his admirable eloquence, it is, that he some- 
times borders on the hard and dry. He may be thought 
to want smoothness and grace ; which Dionysius of Hal- 
icarnassus attributes to his imitating too closely the man- 
ner of Thucydides, who was his great model for style. 
But these defects are far more than compensated, by his 
admirable and masterly force of masculine eloquence, 
which, as it overpowered all who heard it, cannot at this 
day be read without emotion !' 

When he came to Boston, he could not have been 
ranked among the first scholai-s of our country, speak- 
ing in a general sense ; for there were many in his 
own circle of friends before him in classical learning, 



216 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

who had spent their days and nights upon Greek and 
Roman hterature. Perhaps he had not felt this be- 
fore. He could not, in his busy course, have been 
profound in ancient learning ; but his pride and his 
taste came to his aid, and he commenced the study of 
the classics with the ardor of youth, in the maturity of 
his judgment ; and such devotion at the shrine of 
Apollo and the Muses, is always blessed by the god. 
These acquirements gave a mellowness and finish to 
his speeches and writings, which they had not pos- 
sessed so conspicuously before. Like Lionardo da 
Vinci, he added to the magnificence of his early de- 
signs all the gatherings of his experience and the im- 
provements of his taste. This is the noblest proof of 
true genius. It is seldom that bold outlines are pa- 
tiently finished up. This was, perhaps, in no small 
measure, owing to his new position ; for the situation 
of every man has much to do with his exertions, and 
in the end with his reputation, even if it does not ab- 
solutely alter his character essentially. If it be true, 
that 

' Pigmies are pigmies still though placed on alps, 
And pyramids are pyramids in vales,' 

yet, when the latter are placed on an eminence, their 
morning and evening shadows are cast at greater 
length, and the vast piles are seen, in all their magnifi- 
cence, at a much greater distance than if placed in 
vales. Coming to the metropolis of New-England, he 
was indeed set upon a hill. It was a happy exchange 



LIFE OT WEBSTER. 217 

of pkce, for he was made for that city and that city for 
him. There he seems to be as great a favorite as 
Pericles was in Athens ; and for aught I can see, his 
power and influence are likely to continue as long. For 
fifteen years it has been waxing apace without feeling 
a particle of diminution. It is now and then said, by 
those usually croaking on the left, that his measure of 
popularity has reached its acme, — that it is impos- 
sible it can last much longer. All this is because 
they have seen one favorite go down after another and 
pass away ; but it is impossible that he should become 
unpopular while he retains the powers of his mind, and 
continues his exertions for the honor of his country. 
To forget him and his services, would be worse than 
ostracising the just Athenian. He has the charm 
which will always retain its power over the people 
where he lives, — ^the influence of domestic, social, and 
religious virtues, added to the powers of his under- 
standing. No poor man ever asked him for pecuniary 
or professional aid in vain ; and his liberality to institu- 
tions of learning is well known. 

But to speak more particularly of his mental en- 
dowments. He is not wanting in originality, — that 
power of surprising and leading the mind upon some 
new track ; he seeks, however, for nothing novel or 
marvellous, whatever he might do in that way ; he 
makes no such attempts. The truths he would enforce 
or illustrate, are good old-fashioned truths, some of 
which are 'so long remembered they're forgot.' These 
19 



218 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

he would enforce on the public mind by every power 
he possesses, — these he believes are the palladium of 
our country, in her advancement in the scale of nations. 
His whole soul is devoted to them ; and at all times, 
and in every place, he dwells on them with might and 
main. He is prepared for the herculean duty. His 
memory is strong, and has been well stored with facts, 
and is pregnant with pohtical life ; and those stores of 
knowledge are all laid up in admirable order, ready for 
use as occasion may require. From these stores he 
has drawn copiously, in all his speeches before the 
public, and that with so much faithfulness and felicity, 
that his hearers have been astonished that they had 
never seen our true interests in such a strong light be- 
fore. The highest genius of man is but to give a more 
correct image of truth than we are accustomed to see. 
His early friends say, that his imagination was once 
of a high order, and that he wrote poetry, — vigorous, 
manly poetry, — whenever he chose ; and as further 
proof of the strength of his fancy, they produce a splen- 
did eulogy delivered by him on the death of a class- 
mate, when in college. This production has the gor- 
geousness of youthful fancy abuot it, and was full of 
pathos. It was, for years, considered by the students as 
an extraordinary composition, the most splendid that was 
ever heard within college walls. Portions of it were 
recited as incontestible proofs of genius, long after Mr. 
Webster had left his alma mater. But "if imagination 
was then his most striking characteristic, it is not so 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 219 

now. The severe discipline to which, in preparing for 
the bar, he put himself under, soon destroyed the in- 
spirations of the Muse, or rather incorporated her sa- 
cred fire with the common masses of law and pohtics 
he was constantly forging out for public use, on his 
assuming the toga virilis among his fellow-citizens. 
Every one was astonished, on his first appearance, at 
the close, vigorous and mature style of his peeches, 
when they expected something of the glowing and 
imaginative kind, from so youthful a genius. 

That power of the mind, whatever metaphysicians 
may call it, which looks over the utmost extent of a 
subject at a glance ; that which grasps all its near and 
remote bearings, and comprehends its dependencies 
and relations ; and that which can throw out all the 
results of reasoning upon it to the public in the small- 
est compass of time, is his, pre-eminently his. It 
may be called genius, judgment, talent, any thing, no 
matter what ; it is greatness, mental greatness, and will 
have its influence under all circumstances. Its strength 
is felt and acknowledged, when no analysis of it can be 
readily given. Whether this power comes in the 
gentle dews, falls in the refreshing shower, or sweeps 
over you in the whirlwind, or communes with you in 
the still small voice, it is power, divine power, and be- 
longs only to gifted minds. 

There are men who say that Mr. Webster has been 
over-rated ; that his qualities are seen through the 
medium of admiration and partiality. This is not true. 



220 LIFE OF WEBSTEft. 

There can be no doubt but that some of his overweening 
friends have, at times, for want of discernment, spoken 
of his ordinary efforts at the bar, and other places, as 
wonderful productions, comparing them with his higher 
efforts, and claiming for them the most unbounded 
praise, and branding all with envy and mjustice who 
did not unite with them to the full cry. The greatest 
minds are sometunes common-place ; it is impossible 
to keep always on the wing, and in upper air, and Mr. 
Webster is too wise to always attempt it. Some things 
should pass off as common-place ; but there are those 
who will not suffer it to be done. It is wrong to look 
only to his orations on great occasions for his proudest 
efforts. These are noble compositions, powerful dis- 
cussions of the subject in hand, abounding in strength, 
pertinent remarks, and striking illustrations, and in our 
admiration of them we would not yield one jot to any 
one ; but after all this, they are not, perhaps, his most 
felicitous productions. He cannot lash himself into 
enthusiasm or passion, and wake his soul to its utmost 
power in the closet. To put out all his strength, he 
require sexcitements that he cannot find there. He 
must be roused by some spirit of emulation, rivalry, or 
honest resentment, to do his best ; he must be awak- 
ened by the cry, that ' the Philistines are upon 
thee,' before the strength of his seven locks are felt. 
It is before a court and jury, or in the deliberative as- 
sembly, that the full extent of his powder can be under- 
stood. It is when they compass him in, that he arises 



/ LIFE OF WEBSTER. 221 

in his might, and takes the doors of the gates of the 
city, and the two posts, bar and all, and removes them 
where he pleases. 

His manners at the bar, and in the dehberative as- 
sembly are peculiar. He begins to state his points in 
a low voice, and in a slow, cool, cautious, and philo- 
sophical manner. If the case is of any importance, he 
goes on, hammering out, link by link, his chain of ar- 
gument, with ponderous blows, leisurely inflicted ; and 
while thus at labor, you rather see the sinews of the 
arm, than the skill of the artist. It is in reply, that he 
comes out in the majesty of intellectual grandeur, and 
lavishes about him the opulence of intellectual wealth ; 
it is when the darts of the enemy have hit him, that he 
is all might and soul ; it is then that he showers down 
words of weight and fire. Hear him then, and you 
will say, that his eloquence is founded on no model, 
ancient or modern, however strong may be the resem- 
blance to any one of them ; that he never read the 
works of a master for imitation ; all is his own, excellen- 
cies and defects. He resembles no American orator 
we have ever heard ; he does not imitate any one in 
the remotest degree ; neither the Addisonian eloquence 
of Alexander Hamilton, which was the day-spring in a 
pure and vernal atmosphere, full of health and beauty ; 
nor does he strive for the sweetness of Fisher Ames, 
whose heart, on all great occasions, grew liquid, and 
he could pour it out like water. Ames waved the 
wand of the enchantress, and a Paradise arose, peopled 
19* 



222 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

with ethereal beings, all engaged in pursuing an im- 
mortal career. Not so with Mr. Webster. He works 
upon earth, on the business of men. Air, water, all 
the elements, are at his command, all vassals of his 
will, and over these his sway is herculean. All is of 
mortal birth, but of gigantic proportions ; his labors are 
not numbered by dozens, nor confined to the destroy- 
ing of monsters ; or changing the beds of rivers ; but 
in serving his fellow-men involved in difficulties, and 
in erecting national monuments for the present, and for 
future ages. 

He never strives to dazzle, astonish, or confuse, but 
goes on to convince and conquer by great but legiti- 
mate means. When he goes out to battle, it is with- 
out squire, aid-de-camp, or armor-bearer, although 
hundreds are ready to take any part about his person. 
In his conflict he trusts to no arm but his own, he rests 
only on the staff of his own spear. He asks for no 
trophies but his own conquests ; he looks not around for 
the laurel of victory ; but it falls from the hands of all, 
and binds his brow, until he goes out again on some 
new exploit. 

I believe it may be said of him, that he never shows 
any of that vanity in debate, which belonged to the very 
nature of the great Father of Roman eloquence, and 
was conspicuous in all his public acts. But if he never 
said with him, ' video patres conscripti, in me omnium 
era atque occulos esse converses,' yet, from his swell- 
ing veins and curled lip, you would judge that he had 



LIFE OF WEBSTER, 223 

no small share of that sin ' for which fell the angels ;' 
but this lofty carriage and haughty look lasts only while 
the fit is on hnn to repel what he conceives to be some 
indignity offered to his client or his cause. 

Some of his admirers talk of his wit in debate. 
There is often a piquancy and girding retort in his ar- 
guments, that by some may be called wit ; but it is not 
the wit of Sheridan, or of any professed wit ; nor that 
wit which sparkles out, and illumines the subject 
under discussion, and seems to be the offspring of the 
moment ; but is a matter of long and previous delibera- 
tion, perhaps of fi-equent rehearsal. Instead of those 
pyrotechnics of the war of words, Webster's speeches 
abound in the burning intensity of that heat which 
sheds a flash of light around, such as we see proceed- 
ing from a glowing mass of iron, when drawn by a 
powerful arm across the anvil. In the United States, 
there have been, and there now are, men of some one 
or more qualifications, superior to any single trait of 
Mr. Webster's mind. Some have more learning, some 
have a sweeter voice, others have a more refined taste, 
and not a few more imagination ; but in the' combina- 
tion of all these powers, he has no equal. He seizes 
his subject, turns it to the light, and, however difficult, 
soon makes it familiar ; however intricate, plain ; and 
with a sort of supernatural power, he possesses his 
hearers, and controls their opinions. His friends yield 
at once with a delighted willingness, and his opponents 
give up after a few intellectual struggles ; even those 



S24 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

who talk on against him, show that their tones are 
altered, and that they are conscious of the victory he 
has achiev^ed over them, and the thraldom in which 
they are placed. The ' reluctantes dracones,^ after he 
has brushed the swarm of flies away, soon become 
quiet in his grasp. 

There are many, and those too of no little intelli- 
gence, who think, and avow their opinions, that the 
present race of politicians is inferior to that which has 
just passed away ; and to account for their opinions, 
they say it requires less talent to administer a govern- 
ment than to make a Constitution, and less energy to 
cultivate peace than to fight out a revolutionary war. 
We are not converts to this doctrine. To equipoise 
the General Government with State rights ; to keep all 
safe on the waves of party violence ; to keep the great 
States from infringing on the rights of the small ; and 
to take care that no State should oppress its own citi- 
zens, is quite as hard a task, and requires as much 
mind, prudence, labor and calculation, as did the great 
work of the preceding generation — that of establishing 
national independence, and fixing upon a form of pop- 
ular government. The growth and resources of a 
country — its capacity for improvements — its riches in 
soil and forests, in waters and mines, give ample scope 
for the mind of the statesman who extends his views 
over the whole, and into all that relates to his country. 
But what great mind can rest satisfied with exploring 
the physical capacities of a country only? Will he 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 225 

not look to the cultivation of the intellectual faculties 
also, as the only means of preserving national virtues 
and liberal principles ? The best manner of producing 
the highest mental cultivation, is a subject of deep 
consideration ; of quite as much importance, and requir- 
ing as high powers, as the efforts of spreading a con- 
stitution on paper. Every day the character of a 
people, as well as that of an individual, is undergoing 
some change ; and every shade of change must be 
watched by a sagacious politician, if he would prepare 
himself to be useful to the public. 

The fields of knowledge are rapidly increasing ia 
number and extent ; and there are subjects enough for 
the most powerful and devoted statesman to grapple 
with in the longest life. It takes a good head as well 
as a pure heart to make a patriot : and a good share of 
acquirement added to that to make a statesman ; and 
to bring out an influential politician, he should superadd 
an active zeal and a good practical knowledge of busi- 
ness. The shallow, raving, fuming politician, pivotted 
on self, with short-sighted views, who deals out saws 
and parrots maxims ; whose general knowledge is 
drawn from the rotten philosophy of party journals ; 
attempts to assume, and often does take the place of 
the pure politician. How long does he keep it. Per- 
haps long enough to answer his purpose — to get money 
out of his devotion to the cause ; but he can secure no 
honest fame— he passes away with the day. The 
hour that consigns him to the grave gives him up to 



226 LIFE Ot WEBSTER. 

oblivion ; or if remembered at all, it is only through 
the medium of his defects. These politicians, if they 
can be so called without violence to language, I grant, 
ought not to be named with those who assisted to 
establish our independence, to form our Constitutions, 
or frame our early laws ; but those who, at the present 
time, are acquainted with the science of government 
and the history of nations ; who add new beauties to 
the institutions of the government, by patient devel- 
opement, and give the Constitution new strength, by 
judicious and profound explanations ; and who break 
down error and falsehood with arguments drawn from 
practical experience, are as great, as important, as 
useful, as those who devised and organized our excel- 
lent form of government. In fact, there are more 
requisitions on sagacity, talent and knowledge now, 
than there were in the earlier days of our Republic. 
An hundred can quarry, square, smooth and polish 
the stones of the capitol, to one who can throw an arch 
to support the dome, or sculpture an image to adorn 
its walls. There is no period of time in which all the 
mind we have is not required for public and private 
uses, though at some epochs it is more valued than at 
others. 

Mr. Webster's enemies say that he is ambitious. 
This will not be denied by his friends. But can there 
be such a thing as a statesman without ambition ? 
Even the martyr's bosom is not free from ambition ; for 
he looks to the crown of glory in another world. There 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 227 

can be nothing great or good without ambition. We 
will not quarrel about the term ; we mean by ambition, 
that zeal and energy for doing something worthy of life ; 
that determination of leaving some mark upon the age 
in which we live, that may be called our own ; that 
purpose of alleviating sorrow — of ameliorating hardships 
— of enhancing blessings — of elevating the humble — of 
humbling the proud, that is what should be called 
ambition ; and why should we not be ambitious ? 

That Mr. Webster has failings no one will deny ; 
for what mortal ever existed without them ? But his 
failings are not such as injure his faculties or impair his 
useililness. Some may complain of his coldness ; 
others of his forgetililness — forgetting themselves, that 
one known to so many, cannot remember all who 
know him ; and some think that he is not sufficiently 
ready to acknowledge their merits ; but they should 
remember that the nil admirari is frequently an in- 
gredient in a statesman's habits, if not in his creed, 
and must be forgiven. But after all our speculations 
and feelings upon the subject, justice in making out 
her balance-sheet, should allow quite as much for the 
jealousies of the mediocre and the little, as for the 
coldness of the great. The one is a sin of omission, 
and the other of commission, but they grow out of the 
nature of things, and must be endured. 

Mr. Webster has been, say his opponents, a most 
fortunate man. No one is disposed to dispute this ; 
but he has had nothing in his course to elevate him 



S^ LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

which might be called accident ; such accidents as 
have no relation or bearing on the character of the in- 
dividual benefited by those accidents, all he has ex- 
perienced has been the legitimate consequence of 
capacity, attainments, and well devised plans. He 
has not been raised, as many second-rate men have 
been, on the billows of party strife, and carried to the 
pinnacle of power by chance ; and when down, excite 
only wonder at their ever having been elevated. Mr. 
Webster has had no honor given him that he has not 
deserved — he has had no honor, that if taken away 
would diminish his reputation. Throw him high and 
dry in a storm, and he would as easily launch again, 
as the eagle could lift his wings from his resting-place 
to sail in upper regions. 

He has flattered no set of men for their influence, 
nor truckled to any in office for their patronage. He 
has asked for nothing in the gift of government, nor 
turned his eyes for a moment on an office in their 
power to bestow. On his constituents alone he has 
rested for the place to stand to use his powers ; but 
even to these constituents he has made no idle prom- 
ises. He never told them that their suggestions should 
be his law, and that he lived only in their graces — the 
modem doctrine among candidates for seats in the 
national legislature ; but he has sacrificed his repose 
and his comforts to understand their wants and wishes, 
while reserving his opinions to himself He has labored 
hard to get wholesome laws enacted, when the old 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 229 

ones bore heavily upon any class of people in the 
community ; to the private claims of those north or 
south, east or west, he has been liberal, when those 
claims were just and well founded, His constituents 
were worthy of their representative ; for putting entire 
confidence in his wisdom, integrity and firmness, they 
gave him no hints for the government of his conduct 
in Congress ; thinking, wisely, that he knew better 
there, than they did at a distance, what course to pursue. 
It is natural, when intellectual and moral qualities 
are given to an individual by his biographer, for us to 
inquire something about his person ; we want to know 
in what form these properties resided, for we fancy a 
thousand connexions between mind and body — ^between 
essence and shape — which may, or may not exist. 
The person of Mr. Webster is singular and command- 
ing ; his height is above the ordinary size, about five 
feet eleven inches. He is broad across the chest, and 
stoutly and firmly built ; but there is nothing of clum- 
siness either in his form or gait. His head is very 
large, his forehead high, with good shaped temples. 
He has a large, black, solemn looking eye, that ex- 
hibits strength and steadfastness, which sometimes 
burns, but never sparkles. His lips, when his counte- 
nance is in repose, shut close — Lavator's mark of firm- 
ness ; but the changes of his lips make no small part 
of the strong and varied expressions of his face. His 
hair is of a raven black, of great thickness, and is gen- 
erally worn rather short ; his head is as yet without a 
20 



SJ30 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

gray hair. His eye-brows are thick, more than com- 
monly arched, and bushy ; which, on a sHght contrac- 
tion, give his features the appearance of sternness. 
But the general expression of his face, after it is prop- 
erly examined, is rather mild and amiable than other- 
wise. His movements in the Senate chamber and in 
the street are slow and dignified. His voice, once 
heard, is always remembered, but there is no peculiar 
sweetness in it ; its tones are rather harsh than musi- 
cal ; still there is great variety in them ; some have a 
most startling penetration ; others, of a softer character, 
catch the ear and charm it down to the most perfect 
attention. His voice has nothing of that monotony 
which falls upon the ear, it may be heard all day 
without fatiguing the audience. His emphasis is 
strong, and his enunciation clear, and so distinct that 
not a syllable escapes any of his hearers. The com- 
pass of his voice is so great, that it fills any room, 
however large, with perfect ease to himself. 

The conversational talents of Mr. Webster are ad- 
mirable ; but what he says is spontaneous and extem- 
pore, not made up for any particular occasion, as the 
conversations of professed talkers and wits are, who 
come out to monopolize the eloquence of the drawing- 
room or of the banquet. There are times, however, 
when he awakes to all the blandishments of the social 
hour, and bears his part of the caenae Deitm without 
a rival ; but this is not often. On a journey, or in a 
retreat from business, he throws aside all his grave 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 231 

habits of thinking, and mingles famiharly with those 
who are capable of giving or receiving any informa- 
tion ; and his superiority is as fully acknowledged 
here, as in his public labors. Most distinguished 
statesmen are not fitted by education for promiscuous 
society. One of the evils attending great men in 
England and other aristocratic countries is, that they 
have but little acquaintance with the middling classes 
in society ; and many of them, from being educated 
privately, have never tried their corporeal and mental 
strength with beings of their own age. When mind 
contends with mind, without any of the distinctions of 
society, in a public school, the powers of each are 
very accurately measured, and the youth grows up 
with a proper knowledge of his own capacity. Mr. 
Webster had every advantage for this intellectual dis- 
cipline. Born among the yeomanry of New Hamp- 
shire — a shrewd, inquisitive, communicative people — 
he began to talk as soon as to think. The process of 
an early education among them is catechetical, -and 
the youth is accustomed to learn, both by answering 
and putting questions among all his friends, from his 
first opening a book. Thus educated, a statesman has 
an acquaintance with all classes of men ; he knows the 
views of every one on the great questions of morals, 
politics and religion, from the highest to the lowest ; 
for these subjects are fireely discussed by all. These 
early lessons of the road and the hearth — of the school- 
room and the vestry — are never forgotten ; they mingle 



232 LIFE OF WEBSTER, 

in his riper thouglits, and often influence his mature 
judgment. Primary instruction can never be effaced ; 
it is incorporated with the growth of mind, and makes 
a part of our intellectual character. 

It often happens that mighty minds weaken their 
energies and waste their time on subjects^ perhaps 
pleasant to them, but of no great use or importance to 
mankind ; but it was not so with Mr. Webster, he has 
turned his attention to no subject in which his fellow- 
citizens were not deeply interested. He has been in- 
dustrious at all times in what was directly useful in the 
course of his duties, or in acquiring what might assist 
him in preparing to discharge them. In communities 
so newly formed, and so rapidly increasing as ours, all 
things that may be^ in any way, used by way of in- 
struction, guide, or example, are of great importance to 
the people. The pathway of genius in a new-born na- 
tion, is blazed from tree to tree, like that of the survey- 
ors of new lands ; and the boundaries he fixes, with truth 
and judgment, become permanent and sacred. What 
Bacon was to philosophy, Mr. Webster has been to 
the constitutional law of his country. He has set it 
upon its true basis, and discovered the strength and 
beauty of the Union ; and, notwithstanding the doubts 
and fears of many, showed the fitness of the Constitu- 
tion for the duration and prosperity of the Republic. 

A true lover of his country from principle, and de- 
fender of it from duty, he has felt as much as any one 
the abuse which has been heaped upon it by Euro- 



LIFE OF WEBSTER. 233 

peans, particularly by some score of travellers, who 
have hurried through it, and saw just enough to sub- 
stantiate the fact that they had put a foot on our soil, 
but knew nothing of us as a people. He has never 
railed on this subject, nor returned their revilings ; but 
he put in a more effectual answer to their false allega- 
tions, by giving his own works to the public. What 
better method could have been devised ? The great 
doctrines he has advocated, he has seen prevailing 
among civilized man, and becoming paramount to all 
opposition. Public opinion has struck a blow, which 
makes every government in Europe tremble. In the 
confusion between frenzy and fear, it is to be hoped 
that they will turn their eyes to the lovely and perma- 
nent principles of constitutional law, as explained by 
our jurists and statesmen, and learn from the western 
world the practical lessons of freedom. 

On the basis of his own merits Mr. Webster may 
rest his fame, for those merits are not accidental, or 
the growth of a few short years in political life. No 
sudden burst of popularity has carried him upwards to 
receive the plaudits of a nation, he might have mo- 
mentarily served, and which some sudden reverse of 
fortune might as easily destroy, and bring the favorite 
to the level of ordinary men. He is firmly established 
in the hearts of his countrymen, and the press has 
taken his reputation into lasting keeping. Much has 
necessarily been given to the passing hour, which will 
never be recorded ; a great portion of his labors as an 



234 LIFE OF WEBSTER. 

advocate will not be remembered, but enough remains 
of his forensic and legislative exertions, fixed and set- 
tled, to establish his reputation, and to preserve it 
through all the ages of this Republic. There is yet 
thank God, 'no storied m*n or consecrated bust,' to 
commemorate his talents or his virtues, for he still lives 
in the strength of manhood ' and reason's prime,' to 
serve his country: But he has done enough for fame ; 
his reputation is already written upon the page of his- 
tory. When a grateful country shall erect a temple 
for her worthies, he will stand a colossal figure for the 
pride of the nation, and the delight of those who love 
to contemplate the finest efforts of human genius. 



Boston— Hale's Steam Press, 
W. L. Lewis Printer. 



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